


Still Chasing Down the Demons

by Nobodydiestonight (orphan_account)



Series: Eleven O'Clock [2]
Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:45:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Nobodydiestonight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After two months of a budding relationship, secrets spill out of Misty that make intimacy between herself and the Supreme difficult. Cordelia’s on a path that is determined to find justice, but Misty’s not sure if that’s what she needs to heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note #1: This fic is fully written, anticipated eight chapters at 5k each. The remainder is in editing mode and beta — it will be posted in completion within the next few weeks. A sequel of equal length is already outlined. Hope to see you for the long haul.
> 
> Author’s Note #2: Takes place in the same verse as Eleven O’Clock; several months later.
> 
> Author’s Note #3: Trigger Warning — there is heavy mentions of childhood sexual assault, no graphic description of the event.

Misty, ironically, hated dreary days. She was perplexed by light rain, wishing the sky would open all at once and pour so she could move on with her plans.   
  
  
Though she knew her plants enjoyed the long drink of water a rainy day had to offer; and the world was always so much greener after a long day of precipitation, she felt trapped indoors. Even if she hadn’t planned on spending a whole lot of her day outside, she just liked having the option.

 

She sighed for the third time at breakfast, her oats having gone soggy and blueberry yogurt nearly untouched. Cordelia squeezed her knee under the table, making her jump. “You okay?”   
  
  
“Oh, yeah. ‘M fine. Just don’t like a rainy day. In the swamp, it meant tryin’ to move as many pots around as I could to collect where the most amount of water was comin’ in. It seemed like there was a new hole in my roof every time it rained.”

 

“Well I’m glad we don’t have that problem here, not today. There’s a big storm coming, this afternoon and late into tonight.” Cordelia shrugged, rubbing her upper arms.   
  
  
“You can sense weather patterns now? Your powers grow by the day!” Misty blinked, her shoulders rising excitedly for her partner.

 

The Supreme lowered her eyelids, smirking. “Yes. My power of turning on NBC and tuning into that goofy bastard on the Today Show trying to make meteorology entertaining is really impressive.” Misty let out a puff of air, hiding a smile, and kicked Cordelia’s ankle with a bare foot while the older witch snickered and tapped her empty cereal bowl with her spoon.   
  
  
“So what are we going to do with our rainy Saturday?” The younger witch wondered as she pushed her bowl away and Kyle reached to take it. Quietly she murmured, “No, I got it, sweet pea, don’t trouble yourself.” He tossed himself in the seat next to her, shrugging. “What are you up to today, Kyle?”  
  
  
He shrugged. “Zoe and Queenie went on a day trip. Said it was girls only.”  
  
  
“Shit, they done went out without tellin’ us? Rude.” She eyed Cordelia, who shrugged, also not having known her other two council members were disappearing for the day. “And they left you all alone?”

 

“Not alone,” Kyle responded bluntly. “There’s over eighty people still here.”

 

“Yeah, but Zoe’s your _girl_. She’s supposed to take care of you,” Misty pouted and ruffled Kyle’s locks. “Don’t you worry, Kyle. We can do something fun while they’re out.”

 

The young man “It’s okay,” He smiled, offering Cordelia his eyes, knowing she’d appreciate what he was about to say next. “Kinda looking forward to the quiet.”

 

Misty laughed and stood, scraping her breakfast away, taking her partner’s and washing the Supreme’s dishes, too. “So, ‘Delia? What are we doing today?’ She twisted her head to note that the older of them was wearing a black, three-quarter sleeved blazer and a cream colored, mid-length skirt. She hoped that was standard Cordelia decorum and not an indication she had business plans.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I have to get a little bit of work done, and check in with the younger girls, but then I think the day will be ours. We can work in the greenhouse or go somewhere — whatever you like, really.” 

 

Misty bit her lip. “I was thinkin’ maybe just snugglin’ in bed — watching a movie on your laptop, maybe?”

 

Kyle added his opinion. “Cuddling’s really nice. I’d go for that, Miss Cordelia.”

 

The Supreme nodded with a serene smile. “Thanks, Kyle. I think we can fit that in, Misty.”

 

X

 

Misty’s skirt length was distracting.   
  
  
Cordelia pressed her lips together as she pulled up their Netflix queue. Truth be told, watching Misty prance around the room in her tight blue tank top and short, fringy black skirt twirling while putting odds and ends away, she had little desire to watch a movie.   
  
  
The younger witch was chattering about _something_ , of which Cordelia had no idea. As she watched her lips move, she could only imagine them upon her skin. Taking herself up on her own imagination, the Supreme stood up and wound her arms around Misty’s middle, kissing her bare shoulder.

 

Misty stopped mid-sentence, almost about to turn around when she felt the arms squeeze her a little bit tighter. “Just let me hold you for a minute,” Cordelia breathed against Misty’s neck, nipping playfully at her skin.

 

Goosebumps crawled up Misty’s arms and she rested her palms over Cordelia’s hands, feeling her breath hitch when the front of her body pressed firmly against her back.

 

Finally twisting around, the younger witch shifted so her wrists hooked over Cordelia’s hips, smirking as she rested her forehead against hers. “We’re not going to watch movies, are we?”

 

“We can,” Cordelia slid a hand up Misty’s side and up her abdomen until her fingers came to fiddle with a long chained necklace. “If you really want to.”

 

Misty licked her lips while Cordelia leaned forward and kissed along her collarbone, making the girl feel week-kneed. “I don’t really want to.” Gripping tighter as to not make the Supreme fall, Misty walked them backwards, letting gravity take her down when the back of her legs hit the mattress. 

  
  
Cordelia pressed a hand to the comforter, knotting the fabric as she all but climbed on top of Misty. The two slid up higher in a silent need for support. Misty pulled Cordelia down after twisting her fingers in the hair at the back of her head, inviting her lips fully to hers.

 

The couple was still new to one another’s bodies, but Cordelia felt there was no point in waiting much longer to become familiar with each other. She’d never been one to crave dominance, but in their situation, it seemed to work with her taking the lead.   
  
  
Misty’s tank top was crawling up with the friction and movement, leaving the skin of her stomach exposed, much to Cordelia’s liking. Though they’d been living together and sharing a room and bed for three months, there hadn’t been much involved in exploring one another sexually. There wasn’t privacy needed for dressing or bathing, but the situations hadn’t been charged with sparks like were being set off as the older witch slid her fingernails across pale skin, making Misty’s breath hitch in the back of her throat. 

 

The Supreme felt a friskiness inside her taking over while her mouth trailed from Misty’s lips down her throat and over her chest. The two had shared plenty of kisses, though never had the moment felt right to take the next step. But as Cordelia dragged the tips of her fingers over Misty’s abdomen again, then hooked her thumb around the bottom of the fabric, pushing up, the moment felt heated enough to dance around an intimate level.  


  
In an unsuspecting second, Misty’s tank top wasn’t covering any of her; and not unusual, the curly haired blonde hadn’t put on a bra that morning. Misty’s chest flushed when all of her was revealed, but she didn’t stop Cordelia from taking the garment the rest of the way off. Cordelia’s chocolate eyes took in the sight before her hands wandered up to cup the girl’s breasts.   


  
Misty gasped and swallowed hard as she opened and closed a fist of nerves around Cordelia’s hair, biting her lip while the witch went to work on her, making her feel a rush of heat in a place that she hadn’t previously experienced. She fought for control of her breath while Cordelia touched and kissed her where she hadn’t ever felt the hands or lips of another and for a long minute, Misty was truly enjoying herself. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of each nerve in her body tingling. Letting out a satisfied moan, she loosened her grip on Cordelia’s hair, keeping her hand flat on the back of the witch’s neck in encouragement to keep going.  


  
All she felt was the cool metal of her necklaces against her flesh when Cordelia suddenly pulled away, but a second later, she felt the woman’s hands somewhere else and suddenly a weight settled deep within her and made the younger witch gasp and shiver. The Supreme took this as a sign to continue, and suddenly, Misty’s skirt was bunched up around her waist and two fingers were in the elastic of her undergarments.

 

Her body began trembling seemingly out of the blue, and it wasn’t out of pleasure. Trying to blink back tears, Misty firmly grasped Cordelia’s hand and shook her head, completely flushed and unable to make eye-contact. With uncoordinated fingers, Misty sniffed and found her blue tank top and pulled it back over her head, pressing her lips together.

 

“Misty?” The Supreme turned an even darker shade of red as she hastily withdrew herself, pulling her hands near her chest as she looked at the younger woman who couldn’t look up as she tugged a blanket around her back so she was cocooned in it. “Misty, I’m so sorry. I-I,” Cordelia stuttered, her own fingers beginning to quake as she realized how forward she had acted, moving them along without ever checking for consent, having assumed Misty’s lack of breath as a good sign. “I should have asked, I should have checked to make sure it was okay, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I took it that far, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

 

“It,” Misty started, stopping to catch her breath as her lower lip quivered. “It ain’t you, Delia.” She cast her gaze to the side and stared hard at the floorboards as Cordelia hoped for an explanation while she reeled in guilt for making the other woman feel so uncomfortable. “I-I want this with you, really, I do. I just didn’t know it was going to be this hard.”

 

Cordelia was caught between wanting to smother the girl in a hug as she explained what had happened that lead to the announcement, or whether to stay three feet away. Deciding to bridge the gap, she slid over slightly, offering a hand for her partner to squeeze. Misty took it and nodded, accepting contact from her lover. Cordelia shifted herself up and back against the headboard of the four-poster bed, then gently tugged on Misty, who settled herself next to the Supreme, curling into her side, her face still flushed and eyes downcast.

 

“I should’a told you a few weeks ago. When you talked about your dark secrets. But it’s just so shameful, and I thought I could forget about it — I mean, I don’t have scars or nothin’, but...I guess that pushin’ the bad memories away don’t mean it never happened.”

 

Cordelia had a hand tucked up under the girl’s hair. She swallowed hard, starting to feel ashamed that her desire for intimacy with the woman at her side had so selfishly clouded her.   
  
“If you aren’t ready to tell me,” She started in a whisper, dropping a kiss to the top of Misty’s head, “You don’t have to. Just know that I’m always here to listen, and I swear, I won’t ever push _that_ again. Your...” She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to figure out how to phrase her prayer for their future sex life. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable the first time. I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. I promise, I won’t—”

 

Misty twisted her face so that her mouth was against the fabric that covered the Supreme’s shoulder. “It won’t be my first time,” She mumbled. Cordelia could hardly hear her and very carefully, the older witch turned Misty’s face so she could read her expression. She squeezed her eyes shut as she revealed her deepest secret. “I haven’t been a virgin for a long time.”  
  
  
Starting to sense where the confession was going, Cordelia struggled to find words to question the young woman with. “Did someone hurt you?” She barely breathed, stroking her girlfriend’s cheek, trying to show support without letting how horrified she was becoming show. 

 

“The first time,” Misty sniffed, “It was Preacher John.” She gripped Cordelia’s black blazer and put her ear against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. The rhythm put her at ease enough to explain what had happened when she was only a child. “I was seven, and was about to make my first communion. My mother used to send me off to Preacher John’s house on the compound to get extra Bible lessons. She thought she was doin’ me a spiritual favor.”   
  
  
Cordelia stroked her hair to encourage her to talk about it. “He was married to four women in the compound, and had about a dozen kids between them. Some of them were in the house the first time. I was sitting with them on the living room sofa. John stepped into the room with a belt, and I remember bein’ real scared ‘cause older kids had talked about gettin’ whipped for disobeyin’ the lord. But I couldn’t think of what I’d done wrong.  
  
  
“One of daughters smiled and laughed, then pushed me off the sofa. She said she knew it wasn’t going to be a whippin’. John told me to come with him, he needed to make sure I was clean and pure for my first communion.”

 

“Oh, Misty,” Cordelia clutched her tightly, feeling tears well up in her eyes as her girlfriend explained the trauma of her past, which suddenly seemed much more severe than her razor blades had been.

 

Misty was freely crying now, as she finally unleashed a secret that she’d kept buried since the she was a little girl. “He took me into his office and told me I had to take off my dress. I told him that I didn’t want to, but he said God needed to see my body in the light. I took it off, but kept on my britches. Then John knelt in front of me and put his hands on the waistband. I told him I didn’t wanna be naked before God, just like Adam and Eve. But John told me that the only way I would stay outta hell was to show God that I was pure and clean. So, I let him. I was so young and ignorant, I let him.”

 

Cordelia closed her eyes and rested her forehead down, shaking her head on top of Misty’s “Don’t you dare blame your younger self,” She insisted.

 

Misty shrugged. “I just remember trying to so hard to use the Bible to get that bastard to stop. I thought I was bein’ clever, I thought if I showed him I knew God’s word really well, he might stop. But he didn’t. He pulled down my long undies and he had this awful look on his face. He was smiling so creepily and I remember trying to cover myself up, but he told me I had to stand with my hands out, like Jesus on the cross. I had to show God that I was truly clean and pure. Then he said he had to check, to be sure. And then I started crying, and he hit me. He hit me across the face and told me God wouldn’t accept me into his kingdom if I cried, so I sucked up my tears, and then...”

 

Misty cried loud, unable to get the rest of the story out while Cordelia held her body as tightly as she could, pressing warm, sweet kisses to her hairline and rubbing her back as comfortingly as possible, dipping her hand under the blanket.

 

“The first few times, he just used his fingers and never made me do anything else. But after my communion, on the day when I was all dressed in white and had little flowers in my hair, he made me stay in the chapel. He took me behind the alter and...” Misty let out a loud sob as images rushed to the forefront of her mind at once. “He made me unzip his pants. He forced me to, put his hands over my fingers and made me unzip him. I said that I didn’t think God wanted me to do that, but he said I had to be quiet or he’d have me sent straight to hell for speakin’ out against God’s will. He started makin’ me touch him.” Misty clutched her fingers around Cordelia’s shoulders and she blubbered, “It was awful. He was so gross and I was so little, and he’d...” She frowned deeply as the near sensation of the preacher crawled over her skin. “He’d put himself in my mouth.”

 

Cordelia was seeing absolute red. She felt something inside of her that was incredibly reminiscent of their last Supreme. Pure hate and an urge for vengeance overwhelmed her. She continued to hold Misty in a comforting hold, but felt her mind reeling at finding the bastards who’d hurt the innocent woman in her arms.  
  
  
Misty shrugged, “It stopped, for awhile. Some more girls made their communions, so I guess it was their turn. For a couple months, John didn’t come to me nor did my mama send me to him. But then, when I was almost eight, we got a new Deacon.  Paul was young, fresh outta the seminary, or so they say, I don’t know if these awful people actually went to school. But, John said that I needed to welcome the new deacon into God’s family.”

 

Cordelia leered, “If I could find a way to go back in time—”

 

Misty kissed her lips, not wanting to hear that — she wasn’t saved when she was little, there was no one to support her then. Now, though, simply confessing what had happened to the woman who supported her unconditionally even after only a few months of knowing her, and less of an actual loving relationship, was already helping. “Eventually, it stopped with Preacher John and Decan Paul. ‘Cause I told my mother one day before church, told her I didn’t want to go there no more. I lost my damn mind — started screaming and crying during a service.   
  
  
“I accused John in front of the entire compound. I tried to run off, but it didn’t take them long to catch me — my father whipped me hard that night. The next day, my mama and daddy were so ashamed of what I’d claimed that they shoved me off into a car and sent me downstate, not too far from here. I stayed with my great aunt and uncle that lived on the compound about thirty miles South of here. My uncle told me if I spoke a word about what I’d claimed upstate, they’d throw me to the swamp with the gators, and that I’d be goin’ to hell for talkin’ out against a preacher.”

 

Cordelia kissed her temple over and over again, squeezing her tight. “I don’t know what I can say, Misty. I want to apologize to you for all that you’ve experienced, but I know that won’t help.”

 

“It gets worse ‘fore it gets better,” Misty sighed, tucking her tear-soaked face under Cordelia’s chin. “I guess my uncle felt it was okay to go on about what had happened to me. It wasn’t long before Preacher Stan, the resident preacher downstate, came up to me and told me that if I did what he said, he’d be able to tell God that I deserved to enter the kingdom of heaven, even though I’d told on a Preacher.”

 

“Oh, no,” The Supreme breathed, tucking her fingers in Misty’s hair. 

 

“He started to do a whole lot more than touchin’ me,” She sobbed, fresh tears spilling over her blotchy cheeks. “And I _hated_ it, and he just kept _doin_ ’ it. I was eight, and every Saturday night he’d come to my aunt and uncle’s house and go up to the loft and he’d stick himself inside of me,” She sucked in a huge breath and squeezed Cordelia harder, relishing the support of her body.   
  
  
“No,” Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut and held the woman for dear life. With new hatred boiling inside her, clutching Misty to her was all she could do to keep from transmuting to the very compounds and letting the bastards brains boil and light the entire complexes on fire. Suppressing the rage churning inside her, the Supreme forced herself to keep listening; Misty needed her support — thinking of destroying the men who’d harmed her was not going to help her girlfriend recover or find closure.  
  
  
“All the while prayin’ to God for forgiveness for my sins. I learned not to cry, ‘cause he seemed to like that. I learned to just lay very still.” Misty sighed, nestling her curls under Cordelia’s chin, alarmed by the dramatic rate that her heart was beating at, practically feeling the anger radiating off the Supreme’s skin. Deciding not to describe the situation too much further she started to end the tale of her childhood trauma. “Eventually, I think I got too big. I don’t think he liked me once I started to mature. Then, _nobody_ touched me. I was one of Stan’s old girls — and everyone on the compound knew that meant I was damaged goods.”

 

Misty adjusted in Cordelia’s hold, whipping at her eyes. “I was kinda okay with that. It meant I got to be left alone. And it was important that I was, because that’s when my powers started to grow.”   
  
  
She played with the neatly folded collar of Cordelia’s jacket. “I didn’t think I could ever be in a relationship with anyone. ‘Cause God says that a woman who lies with a man before marriage is an abomination.” She sat up a little, looking into Cordelia’s eyes, which were equally bloodshot from sympathy. “I spent so much time wondering if I’d ever have a tribe, or someone who loved me.” She lowered her eyes, suddenly embarrassed and hoping that she hadn’t ruined what she loved most in life. “I hope this doesn’t change anything, for how you feel about me.”

 

“No,” The Supreme reached forward, taking Misty’s face in her hands, “Of course not,” She kissed her forehead, letting out a little cry of her own. “I love you, Misty. Despite everything that you’ve been through, all of this? You’re so strong; you’re so sincere. You haven’t let this awful trauma take over your life. I’m so, so sorry. Misty, I don’t know how anyone could do something like that. I’m sorry that there was no one who stopped it from happening,” She sighed, clutching her to her chest. 

 

The witch nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief. “I love you, too, ‘Delia. You’re the first person I ever told about this.” She kissed her shoulder. 

 

“Misty,” Cordelia sat up and dabbed her cheek with the back of her wrist. “Are those men still alive?”

 

Misty let out a single, dry chuckle, tilting her head and looking straight into the Supreme’s gaze. “I moved out of the compound when I was nineteen — didn’t tell ‘em where I was heading, but that I wanted to devote my life to God in solitude. Lived in the swamp, but I went back to the compound times a year for the revivals, to make my aunt happy. She had done her best to take care of me, even when no one else would. We never talked about what happened with Stan when I was little, but she at least could hug me and tell me that God still loved me. It was nice seein’ her a few times a year.” Her face twisted again as she continued.  
  
  
“At last year’s spring gathering though, Stan and John, the preachers, joined up for a mass healing. I was sick to my stomach at the sight of both of ‘em up in the front, claimin’ to be doing God’s work. I knew that there was no speck of anything holy in either of them, and I wanted to shout out about it, but I knew that nothing I had to say would change anything. But I wasn’t thinkin’ straight, I just wanted to go back home, and without really giving a second thought, I brought a dead bird back from the brink, and I guess someone saw. That night, Stan and John broke into my aunt’s home, tore me from my bed, and dragged me through a field to burn me at the stake.”

 

Cordelia cupped Misty’s face and shook her head, in raw disbelief of the entire tragedy. “Misty, I want to apologize over and over for what you’ve been through. And I am so, so unbelievably sorry for what I did earlier. I was so forward and bold. I was thinking about what I wanted. I should have asked—”

 

“No, please, don’t, ‘Delia.” Misty sighed, looking down. Dropping the blanket that she’d been cocooned in, she shifted to sit straddled with one leg draped over Cordelia’s lap, who looked up with a raised brow of confusion. “I want this, ‘Delia. I want to be in a relationship with you, and I want to experience _all_ of it.” She placed a hand on Cordelia’s sides, shaking her head. She used her bare arm to wipe up the rest of her face and forced a smile, as if her confession had made all the bad things that had happened disappear. “I love you, like I’ve never loved anyone else in this world. I want to be able to share myself with you, because I know you won’t hurt me. It just took me by surprise is all. Sometimes, sometimes I get flashbacks, like...I can feel them on me.”

 

Biting her bottom lip, Cordelia squeezed the hand that was at her hip. She couldn’t shake the wicked feelings of vengeance that were still eating away at her insides. She wanted to make sure Misty had justice. “Those men are still out there, Misty. We need to do something about it.”

 

The pale witch shrugged. “It’s behind me now, ‘Delia. I don’t want to make a fuss. They don’t even know that I’m alive.”

 

“Maybe we could use that to our advantage.”

 

Misty slumped. “What are you plottin’? I didn’t mean for this to change things, I just wanted you to know why I was hesitant about...intimacy. More than just kissing.”

 

The Supreme ran her knuckles down Misty’s cheek. “I don’t want this to change things, either. I love you so much, and I can’t wait for you to be comfortable with me showing that to you. But, in the meantime, those horrible people who hurt you, and who are probably still hurting other little girls, should be brought to justice.”

 

The formerly religious girl shook her head seriously. “I don’t think you know what these men are capable of. They burned me alive, ‘Delia.”

 

“They haven’t tried messing with a Supreme. And you,” She kissed Misty’s cheek, “Are entirely more powerful than you give yourself credit for. But this is going to take a lot of planning, to make sure the women and girls that are there now get out and to someplace safe. We’re going to have to go to the police and—”

 

“Please, no,” Misty breathed, feeling her eyes well up with tears again. “I just want to forget about it. Let’s just — let’s just try makin’ love again? I don’t want to start a war with a religious nut.”

 

Cordelia leaned the younger witch back, peppering kisses on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “I love you. And that’s why I want to do this,” She threaded her fingers in Misty’s hair and settled her lips against the other woman’s. “I think that there’s a part of you that will never truly be able to move on unless you make sure those terrible people never hurt anyone else again.”

 

Misty sighed and kissed Cordelia again. “Can we talk about it another time, ‘Delia?”

 

Cordelia accepted the kiss with a groan and felt an involuntary shiver as Misty hooked her leg around the Supreme’s calf, sliding her fingers to the woman’s buttons and shrugging her out of her jacket, revealing a thin camisole. Starving off painful memories, Misty took a brave breath. Wanting to prove that she was capable of fulfilling the promise of love that they had, Misty unclasped Cordelia’s bra and pulled the shirt off, trying to convince herself that she was feeling much more ready than she had previously as the she pushed the Supreme onto her back against the white comforter.

 

She took a moment to drink in the sight of her partner, flushed at the pale beauty before her, forgetting all about their conversation and pushing the plot of justice out of her mind. Cordelia’s lips were puffy as she breathed through them, her eyes shut as she gave into sensation and stopped thinking about the previous confession. Misty trailed her fingers down Cordelia’s throat and over her chest, making the Supreme sigh as they fell down to her abdomen. She was unsure, if this was the way Cordelia liked it.  
  
  
The Supreme sat up suddenly, taking Misty’s hands and lacing her fingers in them. The witch bit the inside of her cheek, sure that she’d done something wrong. “Misty, I love you,” Cordelia whispered, kissing their intertwined hands. “And it’s okay, if we’re not ready for this.”

 

Misty shook her head. “I want to do this, I mean, I don’t know what I’m doin’, not really, ‘cause nobody ever loved me before when they touched me. But, Delia, I want to kiss you and show you that I really do love you.”

 

“I know you do,” The Supreme assured her. “You love me enough to open up about the darkest time in your life. You love me enough that you want to make me feel things...Misty,” She sighed, kissing her mouth. “I know you love me. You don’t have to try and prove it,” Cordelia whispered and kissed her lips, three times slowly, happy to feel Misty pushing her disappointment away and responding a little more with each peck. Cordelia smiled and stood up, not bothering to pull her top back on. “What if we just take a bath, hm? I won’t bring it up if you don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just enjoy one another’s presence.”

 

Misty felt an odd relief wash over her as she accepted the Supreme’s proposal and followed her into their attached bathroom. Any additional intimacy that afternoon would be forced or compensating, and neither of them wanted their first time together to be anything less than what they deserved.   



	2. Chapter Two

Misty clung to her mother’s leg as the woman tried to shush her. “You can’t be carryin‘ on like this, Misty! It’s not done!”  
  
“I don’t wanna go to church, please, _please_ , don’t make me go,” The eight-year-old sobbed, pleading with shining blue eyes. “Mama, please, don’t make me go!”

A gangly, too-young-for-motherhood woman knelt before her, tilting her chin down. “Baby girl, it’s ‘quired by God that we worship ‘im. You don’t wanna burn in hell, do ya?”

Misty blubbered and leaned forward into her mother’s chest. “Preacher John says if I don’t do what he say, I’ll go to hell anyway!”

The twenty-three-year-old mother nodded. “Preacher John knows God’s word better than you ‘n me, baby girl. If Preacher John says you do something, you does it. You hear me? You ain’t gonna disobey him. It’s like disobeyin‘ God himself.”

Misty cried louder and her mother swatted the behind before pulling her up. “Don’t make me get your father, Misty. He won’t be so gentle as me.”

She sucked up her tears and adjusted her dress — full-length and button-down from neck to toe. “Yes, mama.”

The woman took her daughter’s hand, leading her into the temple where Misty began to shake immediately.   
  
The women sat in the back, while the men stood up front, already speaking in tongues as the two Day ladies arrived late to the service due to the long meltdown that started before they’d even left their shack.   
  
Misty sat stiff and rigid, staring blankly at the alter’s candles, wishing she had the power to ignite them into a blast that would take down the whole church.

“Misty Day,” her name was suddenly called and she felt her heart sink. Preacher John was looking right at her, a wicked smirk on the face of the deacon behind him. 

“No, no,” She whispered, eyes wide and horrified as she looked up at her mother, who was beaming in pride at her daughter being called up to receive a special blessing.   
  
The preacher called her name again, “God has chosen you, Misty Day, to go down to the waters of this temple’s sacred ground, and be healed by him!”

“No!” She screeched, standing up and stamping her foot, a sudden rush of bravery swallowing her whole. “I ain’t goin‘ nowhere with you! Never ‘gain! You ain’t ever gonna touch me or make me do awful things in the Lord’s House! No more!”

Misty whirled around and sprinted out of the temple, knowing that the consequences for her actions would be severe if she was caught. Panting, she ran as fast as her tiny feet would carry her. She was being taken by a blink of fury and fear pounding in her ears, and was nearly at the compound gates when the sound of an ATV roared to life behind her and she screamed as loud as she could when she was swooped up on top of the machine. 

An hour later, she lay nearly motionless on the floorboards of her family’s small hut, her dress pulled over her behind and large, angry red welts formed along her buttocks while her father’s leather belt lay just in her line of vision. She could hardly breathe through the pain she was experiencing. 

Her mother stood above her, and Misty let her eyelids flutter shut, though she could hear the angry woman pleading to know in a harsh whisper, “Why couldn’t you be silent? You dumb little girl. Every woman goes though that. The preachers do what they do, then they leave ya alone when y’re bigger. ‘Ventually, they give ya a man, and that man makes a baby ‘nside ya. Then, you’re happy. But ya ruined that, ruined it for y’rself, and ruined it for me! Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl.”

The following morning, the eight-year-old was in the back of a beaten up station wagon, a single bag of her belongings sitting next to her.   
  
The same woman who was calling her stupid the whole night long stayed at her side, stroking her wild curls with a gentle hand. “Misty, don’t you forget us.”

She shrugged, staring at her hands. “Mama, I don’t _deserve_ this. God don’t want me to go, I know he don’t.”   
  
“God has a plan, baby.” Her mother took a heavy breath and slipped the simple, navy blue shawl off her shoulders and draped it around her daughter. “Be safe, Misty. Mama will visit soon.” She kissed her temple and with a somber look, the little girl knew she’d never see her mother again.

One of the compound’s drivers, a man who ran communication with the outside world, was to drive Misty eighty miles South to the sister compound. “Ready, Miss Day?”

She nodded in the rearview mirror, hugging her mother’s shawl tight around her.   
  
Though the circumstances were far from ideal, Misty had never left the compound, and she couldn’t say she wasn’t excited for the small road trip.   
  
Half an hour into their drive, the older man stopped at a gas station. “Gotta fill ‘er up.” He pressed a handful of change into Misty’s hand. She looked up with perplexed eyes. “Go get’cher self a snack, kiddo. Find something you like.”

“Will you bless it?” She wondered and the man let out a belly laugh as he stepped out of the car and opened the door. 

“Kiddo, I just run correspondence. I ain’t the practicin‘ type. Go on, now. Get’cher self somethin‘ sweet.”

Misty gave a firm nod and scuffled into the connivence store that was attached to the gas station. She looked around, full of wonder at the rows of pre-packaged food that stood shabbily before her. A steady beat played in the background and she found herself nodding along to the music as she eyed candy bars and potato chips — forbidden food in her world.  
  
Pressing her lips together, she decided on a pack of Chips-Ahoy cookies and made her way to the register. A friendly, toothless wonder greeted her. “Hey, little lady. Just the cookies?”

She nodded, giving a sweet smile back. “What’s this song that’s playin’?” She wondered as the man punched some numbers into the register.

“What, you don’t know Fleetwood Mac? Shoot, little lady. Tell your pappy to turn off that pop crap you kids listen to and enjoy some real music. Queen Stevie’ll teach ya about the spirit o’ music.”

“Queen Stevie? Is she the one in Buckingham Palace?” Misty wondered, trying to pull out her knowledge of the royal family.

The cashier snorted. “Stevie _Nicks_ , baby doll. Shoot. Not knowin’ no Stevie Nicks — that’s a crime, I dare say. Alright now, seventy-five cents.”

Misty pushed her change his way, not knowing how to produce seventy-five cents out of the handful she had. “There, you keep the dime, now. All set. Go your own way, little lady.”

Her driver was waiting for her already in the car. Misty opened up her pack of cookies and offered him one. “Thanks, kiddo. Ready to head to your Aunties?”

She nodded, feeling much more at ease — maybe this was a sign of things to come. “Mister, do you think you can make the radio play Fleetwood Mac?”

“Hm, I don’t really have a lotta control over what the radio plays, but you know, I might just have a tape. Hold on, now.” He reached under his seat, pulling out a plastic case. “Hmm, I could’a swore Rumors was in here...aw well. Hope just Stevie will suit ya fine. Enjoy some Bella Donna. Just don’t go tellin’ your Auntie.”

Nearly two hours and a Happy Meal later, Misty was standing outside the gates of the compound with a nervous grip on her suitcase. Her driver rang the bell and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be okay, kiddo. Just remember what Stevie told you, right? The dream keeps coming.”

He ruffled her hair and the gates opened. A wad of cash was in the hand of a man in a straw hat, given to the driver. 

Misty was led in silence to a narrow, two-story house. “Sam, Poppy — the girl’s here.”

Poppy, a long-necked, elderly woman, stepped out of the home with a careful smile. “Misty. Let’s get you inside, now. You’re just in time for afternoon supper.”

It was nighttime when Misty had been scrubbed from head to toe in a metal basin out back, then dressed in a white robe. She hated wearing all white, it reminded her of her communion. She wanted to have her mother’s shawl wrapped around her when her Aunt Poppy called her down to the front porch to meet the resident preacher, but she’d insisted she wear more traditional clothing.

An overweight, sweaty man approached the wooden planks of the walkway, and Misty felt her skin crawl at the sight of him. Poppy placed a hand on her back. “Preacher Stan, this is my niece, Misty. Now, Misty’s got some repenting to do, but I think that you’ll find her perfectly worthy of the Kingdom of Heaven once she’s made her peace.”

“I heard,” He licked his lips, adjusting his thick glasses and Misty already felt uncomfortable in his presence. “Your uncle told me that you made an unforgivable mistake.”   
  
Still wearing the mask of bravery she’d put on in the church the afternoon before, Misty whispered, “God wants us to always tell the truth. That’s all I did.”

“Hm,” The preacher raised a hand and ran it over Misty’s face, making her shiver involuntarily. “Well, we’ll see if we can’t get that forgiveness. Let’s get you upstairs and ask God to consider you, despite your lies.”

Misty clutched Poppy’s skirt, but the woman refused to look down at her niece. “Aunt Poppy! No, please,” She began to cry as Stan lifted her off her feet. She screeched, kicking at him. “No, no, no! Please, Auntie Poppy, you gotta make him stop! He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do bad things to me! Things God don’t like! Please, Poppy, please!”

The older woman stood with a face of stone, the only movement of the loose hairs in her bun as a breeze rippled through the compound.

Preacher Stan took Misty up to her cot in the loft, smiling down at her as he tugged at her dress, keeping her pinned down with one large hand as she struggled and screamed.

“God wants to welcome you into heaven, Misty. But you have to ask him if you deserve it. Do you deserve it, you filthy little child?”

“Please, stop!” She sputtered on her own saliva from shrieking so hard.   
  
But he didn’t, and every Saturday night was the same nightmare, again and again.   
  
When he left the eve before Christmas, three months after she was dropped off, Misty rolled onto her side, clutching her mother’s two-tone blue shawl. She sniffed and dried her tears in the fabric, humming the tune to the song that she’d heard just before she’d arrived at the compound. “The dream keeps coming,” She told herself, rolling onto her back once more, staring out the crack in the roof that rained on her each time the skies opened up. “The dream keeps coming,” She spoke just a little louder. Sighing to herself, she hobbled uncomfortably down to the pump out back, filling a bucket and taking a sponge from the laundry supply cabinet, cleaning herself up just as she did each time Stan visited her. Not allowing herself to cry anymore, the eight-year-old curled up inside herself, hoping that the dream that Stevie woman talked about would be hers in the future.   
  
X  
  
“...And bay leaves give us what?” Misty questioned a group of seven eager young girls in front of her. One, a budding little witch who wasn’t much older than Misty had been when she discovered her powers, raised her hand excitedly from her place on the cement floor of the greenhouse. She was sitting with her legs crossed in front of them and a pot filled with a mixture. “Yeah, Abby?” 

The girl’s almond-shaped eyes lit up as she answered, “Protection!” 

“She’s right. So, there’s lots of reasons you might need protection. A few months before you girls came, there were some witch hunters after the Coven, I know Miss Cordelia already explained that to you. But she and I worked on making a very powerful potion that helped to keep them out. Right now, we don’t need nearly that much, so we’ll use a very small fraction of what we did before. ‘Tasha, you wanna add this in and give it a stir for us?”

A short brunette nodded enthusiastically, scooting forward to pour in a small cup of the magical ingredient and working away at mixing it into the thick goop they’d created. “Looks good, smells terrible,” Misty commented, grinning at the sight of their potion. “Now, we add it to our plant,” She pushed a decaying bush to the middle of the group and spooned a generous amount of the green onto it. “And, for the spell. I know the incantations are really tricky right now, but I swear, they’ll get easier. Go ahead and read it to yourself once or twice so you get the words right, then listen to a buddy say it.”

They did as instructed, occasionally a pronunciation question was asked. Once they were all looking back up at her, Misty took her own spell card and reminded them, “Intention is the only way to make it work. You gotta believe in your powers, know that they’ll work. Visualize that plant growing. If you will it, it’ll happen. Ready?”

Speaking the incantation together, the young witches were amazed as the plant bloomed to life before them, almost too giddy to finish. Making their way through it, they were in awe of their abilities.   
  
A clap surprised them all and Misty whipped her head around to spot Cordelia in the doorway, beaming in pride. “Congratulations, ladies,” She spoke, earning the flushed, peaky faces of seven of their youngest students.   
  
“Did you see us do it?”

She nodded, standing above Misty and counting the results of their spell. “Ten berries? That’s wonderful.”

“I suppose when you’ve got eight sources of magic, you’re bound to get good results,” Misty winked at her group and passed them each one of the fruits of their labor, watching their faces as they tried not to cringe at the bitter taste.

Their headmistress chuckled as the girls asked if they could try another spell. Misty was about to respond that she’d have to cut up more ingredients, but Cordelia saved her with the announcement, “Lunch is ready. Afterwords you’ll have an hour before afternoon gathering. Hopefully you’ll use that hour to finish your reading that’s due this evening.”

The group thanked their teacher, several of the young witches offering hugs to both Misty and Cordelia on the way out. The curly haired witch stood, brushing herself off and lifting the plant from the ground, turning with it in her arms and meeting the Supreme in a kiss. “Thanks for taking them today,” Cordelia shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Some of these girls, I swear, I don’t know if their last school was a juvenile detention facility, but they better shape up if they’d like to stay here. I had two years of Madison Montgomery under my belt and I’m not putting up with the behavior much longer.”

“You know, as wrong as most of life on the compound was,” Misty started, cleaning up the rest of her mess and putting things away. “I do think that the whip was a very effective punishment. Tell you what, you take a few lashings to your bare behind and you won’t step a toe out of line.”

“Well,” Cordelia settled herself down into a stool, “Corporal punishment is quite frowned upon. And I’m not about to start _that_ conversation with the media.” Rubbing a hand over her face, the Supreme fought off a yawn.

“I didn’t mind teaching the girls today, though,” Misty shrugged. “It was kind of fun. I can take this group regularly, if you want me to.”

The older witch grinned and reached out a hand for Misty’s, her eyes showing more than thanks. “I would pay you if I didn’t already take care of our finances.”

Giggling, the younger woman shrugged. “They’re so ready to learn, so full of wonder. I mean, I know I’m still learning, too. But it’s nice to be able to share what I do know.”  
  
Cordelia watched her bustle around the greenhouse like she’d grown up there, finding the notion comforting and sad. Sad, because Misty _could have_ grown up in the academy. Since her confession about her horrific childhood, Cordelia had given a lot of thought, torturing herself with the idea of how things could have been different.   
  
Though she didn’t like to think of the age difference between them often, the older witch had calculated that she’d have been almost seventeen when Misty’s powers started to surface. The damage would have already been done, at that point, but Cordelia imagined the healing she could have helped Misty work through; Myrtle by her side as the headmistress of the academy, as they trained Misty up to be one of the most powerful witches of their time.

Shaking her head of the thoughts, Cordelia bit her lip as Misty finished washing a spoon and hummed to herself. Unable to wait for the discussion she wanted to have with her girlfriend any longer, Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut before asking, “Misty?”

The woman turned to her as she dried her hands, “You ‘bout ready for lunch? I don’t have much of an appetite, but I’ll go with you —”

“No, I...” She sighed, patting the seat next to her. Misty sat down in it, pulling her leg up over her lap, clutching her ankle. “I wanted to know if you’d done any thinking about...going to the police, with information about the compound.”

Taken aback, the curly haired witch shrugged. “‘I told you — letting you know about what had happened was fine. I really don’t want to get involved in an investigation. I think my time to tell the story’s probably up, anyway. And, I feel like talkin’ bout it to strangers is only gonna make it worse for me. I just wanna forget and move on.”

Her bracelets jingled as she talked with her hands and Cordelia kept her gaze on the countertop. “What are you thinkin’?”

With a brave breath, the Supreme answered, “Knowing that those wicked men are still alive is eating me up, Misty. I know that you think pushing it away is solving your problem, but I don’t agree. I think we need to do something about it. I think we need to bring them to justice. It’s going to help you get closure —”

“I got closure,” She interrupted, feeling frustrated. “‘Delia, I’m fine, honest.”

Her girlfriend gave a slightly snappy response, “Is that why you were sweating in your sleep last night, and woke up crying?”

Misty pressed her lips together and stood up, about to storm out of the greenhouse. 

Cordelia cursed under her breath, “Wait, wait, please?”

Stopping in her tracks at the door, the younger witch turned around, her eyes flashing red, with unspilled tears. “That was mean.”

“I,” The witch swallowed her logic and moved closer, making Misty turn back around. The shorter woman hooked her arms around the taller, pressing her forehead into Misty’s back, which was exposed by a low-cut top. “Misty, I love you. And I hate what has happened to you. It’s wrong, and it’s not only wrong and terrible for you, but for lots of other little girls, too. I had to go through all kinds of training to become a licensed school administrator, and one of the things that required was a seminar on mandated reporting. If I even suspect that abuse is happening, it is my legal obligation to report it.”

Misty turned around, feeling awkward in the reverse embrace. “Fine.” She bit out, knowing she was going to lose the argument. “Then call the cops and tell ‘em that you suspect something. But don’t involve me.”

She disappeared in a sliver of transmutation and Cordelia stood in the front of the greenhouse, feeling defeated.   
  
Turning back to the plant that she’d watch Misty and the young witches of her coven grow, the headmistress took two of the berries and popped them into her mouth, staring hard at a list of ingredients that sat in containers above her work station.

X  
  
Misty was absent from mid-day gathering, and Cordelia’s stomach was in knots as the witch wasn’t at dinner or their evening blessing, either. Biting the inside of her cheek as she returned to their room for the night at nearly eleven, she received no relief as Misty wasn’t curled up in bed or taking a shower. Hoping that her girlfriend would be back before she went to sleep, the Supreme settled on a long hot bath with relaxation salts and oils, finding them useless as her heart rate continued to spike over the absence of her lover.

After drying her hair and putting moisturizer on her face and hands, Cordelia tugged on a thin, white nightdress and settled herself into her blankets that were an identical hue. She was chilly, with no one to burrow up with. Lighting the fire with a quick flick of her wrist, she turned on her side, staring at the alarm clock next to her, watching the minute hand tick on. 

Eventually she was somewhere near dozing, but lost that sense as the door creaked open. Wanting desperately to jump out of bed and pull the familiar presence into her arms and cradle Misty, she remained neutral, knowing the woman would come around when she was ready.  
  
An attempt to be silent was made as the younger witch clicked the door shut and moved to the walk-in closet, turning on the light to drop her bag and change. Cordelia heard the sound of a half-dozen bracelets and long necklaces coming off and being dropped into little plates along a shelf and the light switched off, Misty shuffling across the floorboards and to the bed, lifting up the blankets and sliding in.

“I know you’re awake,” She mumbled and Cordelia rolled over to face her girlfriend, who looked like she’d spent the better part of the day in tears. 

She reached her arm over and drew Misty to her side. The woman was unable to resist and found herself burrowing up in Cordelia’s arms. “‘M sorry I ran off,” She muttered.

Cordelia kissed the top of her head, stroking her messy curls. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“The thing is,” Misty let out a loud breath. “I need you with me,” She started, “At every single meeting we have with the police or agents, or whatever. I _cannot_ do this alone, ‘Delia.”  
  
Propping herself up slightly, the Supreme questioned, “You really want to do this?”

“ _Really_ would be overstating it, and so would _want_ , I guess, but...” Misty pushed her girlfriend back onto her pillow so she could be curled up in her shoulder. “I know I should. I just have to have you with me. You gave me strength to tell the story once. I won’t be able to tell it again without you.”

Cordelia kissed her lips sweetly. “I think you’re underestimating yourself, but I promise you, Misty, I will be with you for every single step that you take on this journey. We’re going to get justice for you, I swear it.”  
  
X  
  
Misty felt awkward in one of Cordelia’s button-down tops and lace skirts. She even had nylons on that tucked into her boots. Her hair was pulled back by a headband, off her face, and no feathers graced her appearance.

Her heart was beating a thousand times a minute as she waited for a district attorney to arrive in the lobby of a courthouse. After initial interviews weeks previously with various detectives and officers, a federal investigation was being launched into the compounds she’d grown up in. Apparently, suspicion had been drawn by outsiders for years over the goings-on of the religious cult, but no individuals from either lot had ever come forward with testimony. Misty’s confession had allowed a team of private investigators to infiltrate the camp down South, even though the statue of limitations was up on her childhood exploitation. Her description of the horrors within had been enough for undercover agents to be involved with hiding cameras and recording devices while posing as a new, down home family to the cult. All that remained to do was to give a private version of her life to a judge so the woman of authority could grant an order to take on the North as well.

Cordelia had her hand covering Misty’s knee, trying to keep it from bouncing in nerves. “Sweetheart, relax. This is just a formality.”

“It’s makin’ my stomach ache,” Misty whispered, leaning her head back against the cool marble wall of the courthouse. “I could throw up, ‘Delia.” The Supreme dropped a kiss to her partner’s temple, making her eyes close in appreciation.

“You’ll be in your own comfortable clothes soon enough.”

“Thank God,” Misty sighed, trying not to smirk. “I don’t know how you wear all this polyester. It makes my skin crawl.”

Just as Cordelia was about to retort with a joke, a stocky man in a blue suit approached, shaking both their hands with a grateful smile. “Good to see you again, Miss Goode, Miss Day. If you’ll follow me, we’ll have this wrapped up as quickly as possible.”

The judge’s chambers were poorly lit, and the mood was already spooking Misty, who eased herself into a chair and twirled her thumbs together, trying to swallow a hard lump in the back of her throat. 

The judge, an older woman with a blonde pixie cut and gentle eyes, invited Misty to begin, reminding her that this wasn’t a hearing, just an informal conversation that would allow the investigation team to move forward.  
  
Misty began describing life in the compound — talking about the physical abuse that women sustained from their husbands, down to the horrific sexual misconduct that occurred between the preachers and young daughters of the property. 

“...And do you honestly believe, that without our intervention, John Bradshaw, Paul Lake, and Stan Dobson have and will continue to violate young girls?”

“I believe it,” Misty mumbled, eyes in her lap.   
  
The judge dismissed two officers in the room with a blue slip of paper, granting power to investigate the compound in the North. “Now, Misty, I’d like to talk to you also about the charges of homicide I’d like to add to John and Stan. Though you’re with us now, what they did to you past the childhood trauma, was just as unforgivable. Would you be willing to bear witness in court about your wrongful death?”  
  
“I think that’s gonna be pretty hard to convince a jury of, given that the dead don’t usually give their own testimony.” Cordelia covered up a laugh at Misty’s sarcastic statement.

“While it’s unconventional,” The judge went along with the light tone, “I think perhaps a demonstration of magic might be worth your time? The public knows of the witch’s Coven, that you have powers already. If they saw it with their own eyes—”

“No, they don’t know about resurgence,” Misty snapped, seriously. She shook her head, “And I’ve made my peace with my death. I’d like this to be about saving little girls from assault. Please, ma'am. I don’t want to go public with my powers. It’d be inviting a whole new slew of problems my way.”

“I will respect your wishes,” The judge nodded. “But I’d perhaps like you to be there when we pick up the preachers. They don’t know you’re alive, and I think that might come as quite a nice shock to them when we put them away for the rest of their natural lives.”

Misty gave a tiny, forced smile, reaching over to squeeze Cordelia’s supportive hand. “I’ve never been a big fan of surprises.”

The judge was trying to bite her tongue as Misty kept derailing her hope for the case. “Well, then. We’ll be in contact soon. Ms. Day, Ms. Goode.”


	3. Chapter Three

Misty was uncharacteristically silent as she shuffled around the greenhouse, squinting occasionally as she glanced down at an old textbook. Measuring with extreme precision and cutting leaves and herbs with perfect, tiny slices, she prepared the ingredients for a potion that she wasn’t sure she wanted to take.

  
She lit a flame on a burner with a roll of her neck, sighing as she heated a vat of water. Watching as it came to a slow bubble, Misty sighed again to herself, closing her eyes as her face read an expression of pure misery.   
  
Distracted, she hadn’t heard the back door click open, nor notice the footfalls behind her until a pair of hands covered her eyes. About to scream, she recognized a whiff of perfume and eased her shoulders, lowering the fist that had been about to sock whoever dared to creep up and touch her.

 

“What’re you up to?” Cordelia whispered, kissing Misty’s cheek as she removed her hands from her eyes and lowered them to squeeze her shoulders.

 

“Workin’ on a potion,” She said quietly, hoping Cordelia wouldn’t ask too many questions — she didn’t want to have to answer them.

 

“Hm,” The Supreme’s eyes wandered, as she snaked her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and observed her ingredients. “Lavender oil, Anise, Sulphur, Sage, Wormwood, Rosemary...Misty?” 

 

The younger witch kept her head down, trying to brush it off, knowing her demeanor alone was making her fail mercilessly. “What?”

 

Cordelia pulled off and reached a gentle hand to stroke her cheek with the back of her knuckles. “Why are you making a forgetfulness potion?”

 

Her lower lip trembled, but Misty refused to cry. “Why do you think?”

 

“We haven’t even caught these guys yet,” She stated with great concern, “What’s going on?”

 

“‘M tired of remembering,” She reached a fingertip up to catch a tear on her lower lashes before it could fall.   
  
  
Cordelia stared at her — in a sleeveless, an amber colored top that clung to her skin was tucked into a wide white belt that led to a dark grey skirt, which was clipped just above her knees. One of her favorite scarves was tied around her hair, but despite looking like typical Misty — she was completely off-kilter.  
  
  
“Forgetfulness potions are extremely dangerous,” Cordelia informed the obvious, sounding like a textbook. “Without exact precession or practice, they can make the user forget things they really need to remember — your entire identity could be lost to you.”

  
Misty stared at the ingredients that she’d measured out with more care than she’d ever used in concocting before. “I wasn’t reckless,” She shrugged. “I measured right. You’re always telling me I’m an amazing witch. You don’t think I can make it right?”

 

Cordelia tilted her head, muttering, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

 

Shrugging, Misty went back to pouring the dry ingredients together. She continued to eye the words to the incantation, practicing them over and over in her head — knowing she had to read them with perfect fluency for the potion to work.

 

As she was about to pour the boiling water into a flask, she found her hand covered by Cordelia’s. “Misty, please, don’t.”

 

Feeling anger well up inside her, Misty stood tall and whipped her body around, away from the Supreme. “Can’t you let me do what I want? Y’know, none of this was my idea. This was all your scheme.”

 

“My _scheme_?” Cordelia noted a drop in her stomach as she began sensing an unsettlement between them. “What are you talking about?”

 

Misty was pacing, her arms crossing then uncrossing to be balled into fists at her side as she clearly tried to keep from exploding, her eyes shining with additional unshed tears.

 

“I told you ‘bout my darkest secrets, ‘Delia. And you went and turned it into a plot to catch some bad old men, which is fine ‘n all, but I don’t think you realize just how bad this is weighing on me! All I think about when I close my eyes is that...” She sobbed once, “Horrible bastard’s fat face telling me I had to hush up ‘cause God could hear me screamin’ and that God wanted me to obey his disciples and submit to their will.” She shook her head, “I can feel his sweaty skin all over me!”

 

“Misty—”

 

“No!” She screamed, her hands flying up as she stomped a foot — not caring how childish or ridiculous it was. “No, no, no. Please, stop. I just wanna forget!” She repeated in a shaky whisper, “I just wanna forget.”

 

Cordelia took a breath, wanting to cross the distance between them and draw Misty close, make her put away her pain in a more natural way. “Forgetting it ever happened won’t change that it did,” She explained, expecting the sneer that the statement drew. “It won’t help. It will just put you at risk for so many other unintended side effects. The best way to put this behind you is by bringing the men that did it to justice—”

 

“Oh, hell with the justice!” Misty shouted, coming to stand before Cordelia with wet cheeks, flushed with frustration. “I don’t care about that! I never did, that’s why I never did anything about it in the first place!” She stared hard at the ground. “I don’t think you understand just how absolutely shitty this whole thing is. This whole _thing_!”

 

Remaining calm, Cordelia pleaded, “Then help me understand.” She reached forward, hoping for a hand to meet her halfway. When one didn’t, she tried to take Misty herself, but the younger witch shook her head. “Misty,” The Supreme whispered.   
  
  
“You wanna know? You really want me to make you understand?” She was wild, her pupils dilated with anger as she resumed wearing a path in the ground. “For three years of my life, I was felt up by disgusting men, who claimed to be God’s men. They’d jam their fingers inside me and tell me how amazing I was in the sight of the Lord. They’d unzip their pants and make me put my mouth on ‘em; tellin’ me God wanted me to thank them for healing and forgiveness. Then, eventually, one of ‘em decided that all that wasn’t enough. So he’d force himself inside my body. He’d go at it for as long as he pleased, praisin’ God the whole time. While I just laid there and wondered, if I had a merciful God, why wasn’t he makin’ all of this stop?”

 

Cordelia felt tears prickling at the corners of her own eyes. She tried to reexplain her reasoning for Misty to avoid using magic to undo her memories, “I understand why you’d want to forget all that—”

 

“No you fucking _don’t_!” Misty shrieked, her hands out to the sides. “You don’t understand it! Because if you did, you’d be helping me find any cure for a memory eraser that you could!” She was practically choking as she finally explained to Cordelia just how long-term the effects of her childhood trauma had been, through a series of dis-jointed sobs. “If you knew how many nights I couldn’t sleep...or how sometimes every touch, even from _you_ makes me think that _they’re_ there, waiting to take off all my clothes and shove things inside me...You don’t know that I wake up with cold sweats almost every night since tellin’ you about it, after a nightmare where their faces are all that I see, and it’s all I can do not to run into the tub and scrub from head to toe to get the feeling of their hands off my body.”

 

Cordelia felt weak in the knees as her girlfriend of well over four months, a woman she’d trusted implicitly with all her secrets, finally bared the remainder hers for the first time. “Misty...”  
  
  
“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about doin’ something like you used to, to try and distract myself from the real pain that I had.” She glared at Cordelia, feeling misplaced anger that she’d never been able to take her pain out on herself the way that her lover had. “I spent years blamin’ myself and thinking that I’d done something to anger God — maybe I _deserved_ to be violated. I’ve been angry, and hated myself, and none of it has done anything to take away the memories of what they’d done to me, or make it any less real.”  
  
  
The older woman stepped closer, but Misty shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t. I don’t want your damn pity right now, okay? I don’t want you to tell me that remembering this is gonna help me heal, or that turnin’ them in will magically make all that horrible shit go away. ‘Cause it won’t. Don’t tell me that it will!”  
  
  
Cordelia closed her eyes. “I don’t suppose that it will. But, Misty, that potion can change who you are as a person. You don’t want that—”

 

Misty almost laughed. “You seem to know an awful lot about what I want. You think you know what I need to heal and get over this. But ‘Delia? There ain’t no gettin’ over this.” She turned her wet face to the counter. “This potion is the only thing that is going to finally make the flashbacks and pain disappear.”

 

Cordelia opened and closed her mouth a few times, then decided to give a little nod, knowing it would take at least another two hours before the potion was brewed enough to be effective. Misty had made it clear, she wasn’t in the mood to negotiate, and she didn’t want pity or sympathy. Instead, Cordelia hoped she could give her the next best gift — time. Though two hours certainly couldn’t change her outlook on Cordelia’s version of healing, she hoped that reflecting might make her have a second opinion about taking the potion. “Look, Misty, I can’t tell you what to do. I love you too much to argue with you anymore.” She took a breath. “Finish your potion — it needs at least two hours over heat. But please, at least tell me before you decide to take it. I want to be there so that if you do forget more than you intended, I can help you.”

 

The Supreme walked off in haste, refusing to show any emotion of her own until she’d left the greenhouse — she needed a breakdown like Misty’s, but knew that having it in front of the younger witch would only add more fuel to the flame. Misty had more than enough of that in her lifetime.  
  
  
Misty heard the door click shut and placed her elbows on the table, staring at her glass filled with a dark green, murky liquid inside of it. Feeling the corners of her mouth tug down again, the witch yelled, slamming her palms on the table before throwing the container to the floor in a second scream. 

 

The glass shattered around her feet and the potion bubbled against the concrete. Wanting to fall to the ground with it, she was thankful for the quick return of Cordelia, who hovered her hands over the liquid, muttering a counter-spell beneath her breath. Misty watched with a heaving chest as it was cleared away into nothing and the Supreme located a dustpan and broom, sweeping away the glass. She tossed it into a container for just that purpose, and took Misty’s trembling hands. 

 

They were in their bedroom hardly five seconds later, and it was all Cordelia could do to keep from letting Misty collapse on the floorboards in misery.  
  
  
She gently led the taller woman by the hips to their bed, where she rolled to her side and collected herself enough to breathe normally. Cordelia stroked her back and hip, knowing that saying anything would only make her feel worse.

 

She was sleeping in twenty minutes, cried out, apparently, giving Cordelia the opportunity to pull out her laptop for a little research. 

 

X  
  
  
Misty woke up with a burning sensation in her lungs. Coughing, she tried to wheeze the sense of having inhaled something incredibly sharp away. “Easy,” Cordelia’s voice came from the other side of the bedroom, where she’d been sitting in front of the fire. Her computer snapped shut and she quickly got up, pouring Misty a glass of water and explaining, “You breathed in the potion’s fumes. Thankfully, it hadn’t boiled long enough to have any affect on your memory. It was pretty potent, though. You did an excellent job putting it together.”

 

She mumbled her thanks into the glass, feeling embarrassed and guilty for her earlier meltdown. Cordelia seemed even more upset, however, once the witch got a good look at her. “Why’re you lookin’ like somebody just died?”

 

Biting her lip, the Supreme shook her head, unable to make immediate eye-contact with Misty. “Because I owe you one hell of an apology.”  
  
  
“No,” Misty sat up all the way, hugging her knees to her chest. “You were right. I shouldn’t have messed with that potion. I could’ve done some serious damage.”

 

“I don’t mean about the potion,” Cordelia took in a heavy breath. “The last few weeks, I’ve been obsessed with trying to right a wrong that you experienced.”

 

“‘Delia,” Misty sighed her name, feeling a sad smile stretch over her cheeks. “I might’ve been a bit difficult in the greenhouse. I’m sorry—”

 

“Don’t you apologize,” Cordelia swallowed thickly. “You’ve done _nothing_ wrong. In fact I deserve a hell of a lot more than what you dished out earlier.”  


There was a beat before Cordelia twisted herself so her legs were criss-cross on the bed, neatly tucked under her skirt while she began to explain herself to Misty’s confused expression. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life.” She couldn’t get excited by the flush that spread across the other’s cheeks. “When you told me about your childhood, something was unleashed inside of me. From the first day I met you, I knew about your horrific and wrongful death. I wanted to do anything I could to protect you.”

 

Misty leaned forward, demanding one of Cordelia’s hands to squeeze. “And I’ve always appreciated that ‘bout you. You welcomed me here all those months ago, not knowing anything about me other than that I’d been wronged, and you wanted to do nothin’ more than teach me and keep me safe.”

 

The Supreme nodded, swallowing thickly. “When you told me that being burned alive wasn’t the first time those men had hurt you, I felt absolutely pulled from every bit of my soul, that I had to do something to bring them to justice. I had to make them pay for what they did, then continued to do to you. I couldn’t...can’t stand that they’re still out on their compounds, ruining other people with no consequence. It didn’t, and doesn’t sit right with me.”

 

“I know it don’t—”

 

Cordelia lifted her free hand while stroking Misty’s other one with her thumb. “Those were _my_ feelings. That was my reaction to your situation. I turned it into my own selfish crusade, rather than considering the affect that it had and continues to have on you. That was wrong. I should never have pushed you into doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. I had no idea how strongly this would bring back all those repressed feelings. I should have never persuaded you to talk to the police, or the FBI, or the judge. You didn’t want any of that, and I just kept pushing. I don’t blame you at all for wanting to make a powerful potion to forget it ever happened.”

 

It was her turn to cry and Misty couldn’t bear the sight. She leaned forward pulled herself into Cordelia’s lap, straddling her waist and pushing away her tears with her thumbs. 

 

The older witch was feeling frustrated that Misty wanted to let her mistakes be brushed off. “Please, can I say what I really want to, Misty?” She begged as kindly as possible.

 

Blinking fast, Misty nodded. “I just don’t like seein’ you sad.”

 

Cordelia couldn’t help the sad chuckle that fell out of her as she pressed her forehead to Misty’s, begging to have her understand, “That’s how I’ve felt for weeks, sweetheart. For weeks, I’ve been all wrapped up in your pain, but I wasn’t taking care of you. I was trying to take care of the source of it, and I was _wrong_.

 

“I wanted to stop your hurt by getting you justice. But that’s not what you need. You need to know that I’m here for you — not for them to get put away. No matter how terrifying your nightmares or badly you shake in a flashback, I am going to be here to help you through it. I don’t want you to wake up and feel like you have to be quiet about it. I want you to tell me, so I can support you, whether with my words or my actions — whatever you need. Misty, I’m so sorry for not realizing sooner how deep this was buried, and how I made it worse than it was.”

 

Misty leaned her face forward once more, this time, pressing her lips to Cordelia’s with fervor. “I forgive you, ‘Delia. I should have told you just how bad it is, but I didn’t...” She sighed, feeling full — though she wasn’t sure of what. “I thought maybe if I just went along with your plan, it’d all turn out alright. But talkin’ to the judge, then thinking about having to see those bastards? It was all too much. I didn’t want to make you upset. I thought if you didn’t know that I’d forgotten what they’d done to me, that we could both get what we wanted.”

 

Cordelia put her hands at the back of Misty’s head, cradling it. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what you need. From here on out — that’s how it should have been from the moment you told me. I can’t apologize enough.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Misty insisted, reaching a hand for her girlfriend’s shoulder. “I love you, ‘Delia. And I know you didn’t do it to upset or hurt me. I gotta be more honest with my feelings. The truth is, I have had flashbacks my whole life. I’ve felt their skin on me for fifteen years since it’s been gone. I’ve cried myself to sleep or been unable to sleep for countless nights, and I’ve really struggled not to take it out on myself in other ways.

 

“But knowin’ you’re here for me, even when you didn’t know all that was goin’ on, it’s made it easier. It has — I promise, it has. Knowing that I have somebody who loves me, despite all that darkness, it’s _enough_.”

  
Cordelia clutched Misty to her, her palms spread out across the younger woman’s shoulder blades as her face tucked into her neck. “You have the most beautiful, pure soul on this planet, Misty Day.”

 

Misty smiled weakly, kissing Cordelia’s temple. “And you’ve got the most caring disposition.”

 

Cordelia wiped at her eyes and pulled away. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? I called the judge while you were asleep. I told her that we’re not recanting your statement, I figured, you’ve already made it through that, right?” Misty nodded. “I told them to continue with the investigation, but that it would be your call as to whether or not we join them for pickup. She said that was perfectly understandable, she just wants me to inform the director the night before the strike date if we’ll be there or not. It’s all up to you, and you don’t have to decide right now. I’ve already taken too much of your power away from you, I will not take your power of choice to face your abusers away.”   
  
Nodding, the taller witch stroked Cordelia’s arm. “I’ll think ‘bout it. But, I kinda like what you just said, ‘bout me havin’ power and choices. For most of my life, it’s felt like they had power over me. And by constantly thinking about it, and letting it affect me, it’s like they still do. I don’t want to let them have any more power, ‘Delia. Will you help me get it back?”

 

Cordelia pecked her lips and brushed her cheek. “In any way that I can.”

 

X

 

A week passed and Misty had returned to working in the greenhouse without any attempt at altering her memory. She and Cordelia bustled around one another with their usual enthusiasm, teasing each other lightly and enjoying the back and forth banter.

 

“D’ya think that we could make some of that cajun baked potato stuff we made awhile ago for dinner tonight?” The younger witch questioned as they began cleaning up from several hours worth of experimenting.. 

 

Cordelia bumped her hip, “You mean can _I_ make that baked potato?” She teased, making Misty giggle.

 

“Well, you just know your way ‘round a kitchen so much better than I do, so unless you want greens and a biscuit...”

 

The Supreme hugged her middle from behind and kissed her cheek. “I suppose I could make you dinner.” She lowered her lips on her neck. “But only if you ask me real nice.”

 

Misty laughed again and turned in her embrace, holding her dirty palms up and leaning her face forward, bumping the other woman’s nose with her own. “Please, Miss Cordelia, would you make me some down-home supper?”

 

“You really want it?” Cordelia bit her own lip and Misty pouted.

 

“I sure do, Miss Goode. I would never want to inconvenience you, of course.” The Supreme shrugged and Misty stepped impossibly closer to her, jokingly commanding, “Now don’t you be takin’ them lips between your teeth when I could have ‘em in mine,” She whispered, her eyelids dropping. She pressed her mouth roughly against hers, still mindful to keep her filthy paws away from the Supreme’s cream-hued blouse.   
  
  
“We’re supposed to be,” Cordelia started, squeezing Misty’s waist once while her lips continued to descend upon her own, “Cleaning up.”

 

“Yeah,” Misty dropped her patience and grabbed her a little roughly around the back, slipping her tongue past Cordelia’s lips. 

 

She pressed their temples together and Misty paused the intense kissing to take a breath, sighing happily. “There’s nothing as sweet as kissin’ you, ‘Delia. Honest, there’s nothin‘ better.”

 

Cordelia smiled and pressed her gentle mouth to Misty’s again. “As much as I agree, I’ve really got to run my afternoon lessons with the girls. Can we spend some time enjoying this again after dinner?”

 

“Course,” Misty grinned, pecking her twice sweetly before pulling away. “Sorry ‘bout your blouse; I can go bring you another one if y’want.”   
  
  
Cordelia shrugged and turned to finish clearing off the countertop in the middle of the greenhouse while Misty placed herb bottles back in their rack behind them.

 

Just as the taller one was about to return to her earlier position around her girlfriend’s waist, a brave throat was cleared behind them. Zoe was half looking, hoping she wasn’t interrupting anything important. “Hey, Cordelia?”  
  
  
The Supreme greeted her with a smile. “Everything alright?”  
  
  
Shrugging, Zoe explained, “Um, there’s someone from the FBI here. Says it’s important that she speaks to both of you.” The two shared a look and Cordelia could actually feel Misty’s heart drop and stomach sink. “Are we okay? Is the Coven in danger?”   
  
  
Cordelia raised a reassuring hand. “It’s got nothing to do with the witches, I promise. We’ll handle it. Thank you.”  
  
  
The youngest of the council nodded and was about to leave. “Cordelia? You’ve got some...dirt on your shirt.”  
  
  
Misty would have snickered if her heart hadn’t been racing. Cordelia offered her a nod. “Thanks, Zoe.”  
  
  
When Zoe left, Misty stumbled back and sat on one of the stools, a hand over her heart. “Thought you told them I didn’t want to be involved.”

 

Cordelia swallowed. “I did, honestly. I don’t know what this is about. Come on, I’ll stay with you the whole time. It’s probably just a formality.”

 

She took the witch’s hand and the two transported themselves inside, Misty ready to vomit as they met an agent they’d spoken to shortly after Misty came forward with her initial testimony. “Agent Larson,” The Supreme nodded as they stepped into her office. “What can we do for you?”

 

“There’s been a break in the investigation.” The woman, all sharp lines in a blue suit crossed the distance between them. “Your information was correct. There is a revival next week — with the height of the healing taking place on the day of the full moon. Next Saturday, we’re going to go in. We’d like for you to be there, Miss Day.”  
  
  
Misty shook her head, her eyes wide. “I said that I was done,” She whispered. “I really can’t do this.”

 

“If I could just share some information with you, Miss Day, I think you’ll—”

 

“I said _no_!” Misty shouted suddenly, turning beat red before using transmutation to leave the room.

 

The agent looked sour and Cordelia turned around with a sharp expression. The woman clearly tried arguing, as she insisted that Misty’s presence would no-doubt change the outcome of the operation.

 

“Excuse me,” Cordelia’s arms were crossed as she all but yelled. The agent stopped rambling. “I informed you that Misty wasn’t comfortable with this. She has the power to say no, and she exercised that power. If she changes her mind before next Saturday, I will be the first to let you know. But until then, I will kindly ask you to stay away from us. She’s been through enough, and she doesn’t need the FBI adding to her stress.”

 

Agent Larson cleared her throat, having a difficult time making eye-contact with the Supreme. “Miss Goode, I don’t mean to bring up terrible memories—”

 

“Then don’t,” The woman stated with authority. “I assume you know the way out?”

 

“Ma’am, if you could convince her to join us...Miss Goode, I know that she’s been through hell, I get that, but the mere power of her presence might be invaluable to us in making this a success.”

 

Cordelia pressed her lips together. “There’s a psychologist named William Glasser who developed  a hypothesis that is known as Choice Theory. The main principal in this is that people who use external control to make others conform to their will are using deadly habits, and it’s using those habits that disconnect us from one another. This disconnect is what causes people to engage in destructive behaviors.”

 

“Miss Goode—”

 

“I’m not finished,” She tilted her head down slightly, bringing her hands together in front of her. “But when we use caring habits, that support someone, we are connected and feel safe in our surroundings. Bribing and threatening are deadly habits that I will not engage in with Misty, not to convince her to join your task force. I love her far too much to let her be destroyed by those actions. I will listen, encourage, accept, and respect Misty and her choice. She had all choice and power taken away from her when she went through this experience in the first place. I will not have her feel that same lack of control because I want those men captured. And I insist that you do the same.”

  
In a flourish, the agent stepped forward and pressed a small card into Cordelia’s palm. “This is my personal number. If she’s interested at any point before Saturday in bringing these men to justice, call me immediately.”   


  
X  
  
  
Misty was trying not to pick at her dinner. She’d sucked up any sign that the interaction with the agent had upset her, and carried on with her afternoon, swearing up, down, and sideways that she was fine. But as Cordelia watched her struggle to eat the meal she’d requested, she knew the witch was off.   
  
  
She reached a hand to cover Misty’s, earning her grateful smile. “I swear I don’t know how I was a whole person before I had you, ‘Delia.”   
  
  
Kyle was sitting across from them, having eaten more than a single person’s fair share of dinner. He smiled at Misty and nodded. “She’s part of your soul.”

 

“Yeah,” Misty leaned her head towards Cordelia. 

 

“Are you gonna eat that?”   
  
  
Misty chuckled and pushed the potatoes his way and he dove into it. She was about to clear away the mess, but he waved her down, meaning he’d take care of it. Not one to argue, she stood up and pushed in her chair, leaning over the edge of Cordelia’s. “Any chance we can go for a little walk?” Cordelia shrugged, sliding her chair back and thanking Kyle for taking care of the dishes.  
  
  
She tugged on a light jacket before handing Misty a well-loved, green military-style coat from a hallway closet. Taking her girlfriend’s hand, she led them out of the mansion and through the gates, breathing in the fresh spring air with a smile. “Sometimes, I just feel like I’ve been too disconnected from nature,” Misty confessed, adjudging her grip so her fingers were laced between the Supreme’s. “I can’t wait ‘til it’s hot out again.”

 

Cordelia shrugged. “I’m okay with waiting for the heat.”

 

“Y’know,” Misty smiled, having a rare positive memory of childhood, “We had this lake down at the compound — in the South. Poppy made me this God-awful, one-piece modesty suit for swimin’, but it was just so thick and heavy. When I got a bit older, like eleven, twelve — I’d wait for it to get real dark, and I’d go skinny dippin‘ on unbearably hot summer nights.”   
  
  
The shorter of the two snickered. “Maybe we’ll have to take a vacation sometime so you can relive it.”

 

Giggling, Misty brought their intertwined hands to her lips to kiss Cordelia’s knuckles, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I’d love a vacation with you, wherever, and whenever you want.”

 

They walked further ahead down the street that led to a small park. Misty tore off across the grass when they came to the playground down the winding path, sliding into the swing on her stomach and laughing with full-force. Cordelia bit back a grin and joined her, sitting on the empty swing next to her right, pushing off and extending her legs out before bringing them back in. “Did Fiona ever take you to the park?” She wondered.

 

“Oh, hell no,” Cordelia nearly busted a gut at the notion of her mother having ever pushed her on a swing or caught her at the bottom of the slide. “I had a nanny for a few years — she used to take me when I was really little. Sometimes I’d stay after school and play on the equipment until one of the teachers would persuade me to go home. They all knew I had nothing there — but couldn’t leave me unsupervised.”

 

“I always wanted a swing set,” Misty nodded, dragging her legs along the wood chips. “In our shitty excuse for a schoolhouse, we had a reading series that had some books that were all about school, y’know — public school.”  
  
  
“Oh, Fiona did _not_ send me to public school,” Cordelia nearly laughed at the thought of Fiona waving her off to a yellow bus every morning. “She’d spend any penny she had to if it meant I wasn’t being educated with people who got free lunches.”  
  
  
Misty shrugged, “Once I saw the books about a real classroom, I wanted to go real bad. There were all these colorful pictures of classrooms and playgrounds...meanwhile, we were sittin‘ around on some hand crocheted sit-upon’s listening to some battered wife read the Bible and prayers from a hornbook.” She let the wind blow her curls away from her face, feeling at peace with the breeze. “I just wanted to go on the swings that they had in those pictures. I’ll never forget my first real swing...I was ‘bout seventeen — still interested in tryin‘ to fit into society. I walked passed an elementary school downtown in New Orleans one day, and there it was...Shit, ‘Delia, you’d have thought I was actually five years old the first time I swung my legs out and felt the breeze takin’ me away on them swings.”

 

The sun was setting early in the evening and Misty flipped off the swing with grace, standing up straight and stretching. “Can we go walk a little through the woods? Not long, I swear —”

 

Cordelia was at her side and she kissed the woman’s cheek. “I’ve got all night — though we should be back so I can hold evening gathering — I didn’t leave anything for Queenie or Zoe to lead the girls.”  
  
  
They stuck to the runner’s cross-country trail at first, Misty stopping occasionally to pick up a leaf or a weed, wondering if it could be of any use to her. 

  
“Wanna break off the beaten path? Take the road less traveled and be a real-life Robert Frost poem?” Misty teased.

 

“You know, some literary experts say that he wasn’t actually intending to take the road that less people took out of curiosity — he just took it at random and —”

 

“Okay, Miss Master’s degree,” Misty tugged her hand and led her off the pre-cut trail and into the woods. “I just wanna hunt for ivy.”

 

Cordelia let herself be dragged along as the younger witch collected all sorts of plants and weeds, stuffing them into the pockets of her jacket, chattering away as they walked on.

 

Finally deciding she was one with nature once more, Misty led her girlfriend out of the forest so they could return to the academy.   


  
She unloaded her prizes in the greenhouse, vowing to sort them into containers in the morning. “I’m going to get the girls rounded up for gathering,” Cordelia pressed a warm kiss between Misty’s eyes. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  
“Want me to say anything?” Cordelia felt a blush heat up her cheeks and Misty gave her an eye. “What’re you planning, Miss Cordelia?”  


  
Placing a kiss on Misty’s cheek, she winked. “I’ve got an idea.”

  
Walking herself into the meeting some ten minutes later, Misty took her usual seat of honor. There were eighty-some-odd witches in their Coven, learning and living in the community, at one house or another, but they all came together at least once daily for a full meeting of encouragement and empowerment from their leader. Every night, Misty would look up at her girlfriend with nothing but sheer adoration for her talent and ability to lead such a diverse group of young ladies.

  
Cordelia had a small slip of paper in her hand and a twinkle in her eye as she stared out at the girls of all ages. Younger ones were on mats on the floor, piled up by height. Older girls in the Coven had their own seats or couches, while others preferred to hang back against the wall. Misty, however, always sat in a tall-backed chair nearest the fireplace. 

  
“Good evening, ladies,” The Supreme sighed, smiling widely, pleased to see everyone having relatively enjoyed another day at her school. “Please bow your heads as we share a blessing.  
 _Day is over,  
night has come.  
Today is gone, what‘s done is done.  
Embrace your dreams through the night —  
_ _with tomorrow comes a brand new light._ ”

  
She glanced up, happy to see her girls having followed her instructions. “Highs of the day — As always, I’ll start with an accomplishment. Miss Raina, of the junior group, completed her very first levitation spell successfully. Congratulations, Raina. May you continue to grow in knowledge and skill.”   
  
  
A candle was lit on the mantle place with a wave of Misty’s hand — every night, seven were ablaze, a symbol of seven positive occurrences within their coven.   


  
A hand shot up and Cordelia gestured, “Lillian, what do you have to share?” 

  
Six girls spoke of another’s positive gesture through the Coven and Cordelia thanked them each. “Thank you. We must always see our strengths and positives — even if they may at first seem small. Any news for the good of the order?”  


  
A few spoke of upcoming events for the following day that their cohorts may be interested in participating with, and as they finished, Cordelia eyed Misty.   


  
“For our evening message, I’d like to share a bit with you on the power of saying no.”  


  
Misty sat up and placed her hands in her lap as the Supreme continued. “You all have unique power within you — but you also have something in common. That is your ability to give consent.”  
  


Queenie cringed from the love seat to the left — clearly concerned with the heavy content for the younger girls. “People are always going to want something from you, especially now that we’re public with our abilities. The world will always be pressuring you for one thing or another — whether it’s a peddler on the street, or a politician coming to you for something. You have power inside of you, and that’s the power to say _no_.”   


  
A young hand shot up. “Miss Cordelia, aren’t we supposed to give of ourselves and be generous?”

 

“Sure,” The witch nodded, assuring her of other lessons she’d taught the girls. “To be selfless is important. But at some point, you also have to look out for your interests. You have to be happy, too. And, more important than that, you have to do things that make you comfortable.  
  
“Your body and mind are your own. You have the responsibility to both to care for them. You can say _no_ when someone tries to get you to do something you aren’t comfortable doing. It’s okay. It makes you strong to know your own limits and boundaries. You enhance your own power and self-control when you make a decision that is best for you.”

 

Misty leaned her head back, raising her hand. “What if you don’t know what’s best for you? What if...what if you’re letting fear be the reason you’re sayin’ _no_ to something?”  
  
Cordelia met her teary gaze. “To that, I say, talk to those whom you love. Anyone in this Coven will be more than happy to listen to you and support you, helping you sort through your thoughts and even guide you to a decision.”

 

After everyone had held hands and recited a chant together, the girls were off — Cordelia heading up with the youngest group to see them to bed before she entered the room she shared with Misty.   


  
The younger witch had her hair twisted up on the top of her head, a thin grey nightgown touching her knees. Cordelia loved the sight of her ready for the night, sitting in front of the fireplace, candles floating and lit around her. 

 

She moved herself to the large closet, coming out in a nearly-sheer sleepdress of her own, the wide sleeves dangling as she sat in front of her girlfriend. She opened a small, wooden box on the end table next to their seat and reached in, retrieving a tiny token. “This is the rune of Elhaz,” She pressed it into Misty’s palm. “It will offer you protection and clarity. I hope that it will help you as you struggle with whatever conflicting thoughts you are having.”   
  
  
Misty turned over the domino-sized item in her hand, staring at the long middle line, with two that jetted off to the sides at the top.   
  
  
“Thank you, ‘Delia. And for your message,” She sighed, shrugging. “You just know what I need to hear.”

 

The Supreme leaned forward and rested her forehead against her partner’s. “Whatever I can do for you, please, let me.”

 

Misty kissed her lips. “I like having the power to say no. It gives me control, and I think that’s something I was missing for a long time. But, the more you talk about choices and wanting to support me...maybe, maybe going along with the operation to take down those bastards will give me even more closure than just practicing my right to be in control of my decisions. Maybe putting them away for life will help me, like you said...and it’ll stop them from ever being able to do that again.”

 

Touching her cheeks, Cordelia agreed. “I will be right here, no matter whatever decision you make.” Pressing her lips to her girlfriend’s, she brought a hand down to stroke her hip.   
  
Taking a centering breath, the younger witch made her decision. “Will you call that agent? I wanna do this. I wanna use my power to put away those wicked bastards.”


	4. Chapter Four

Misty felt her insides shaking as the night came when they were to arrive by squad car to the place she’d been murdered in. Cordelia hooked a necklace around her, one that had bay leaves in a tiny jar. She muttered an incantation, “Revertere ad me tutus amor meus fortis amica mea,” Then pressed her lips to Misty’s neck. “For protection. Not that you need it.”

 

Swallowing hard, the younger witch turned and hooked her arms around Cordelia’s shoulders, she around her hips. “It’s okay,” The Supreme assured her. “You’ll be fine.”

 

“I never anticipated puttin’ these pigs away. I was real nervous about it, but I want to thank you, ‘Delia for making me do it. The world’s gonna be a better place once they’re rotting.”

 

Cordelia buried her nose in Misty’s hair, inhaling her scent. “We can’t stop all the evil in the world. But damnit, if we we won’t try.” She pulled away, touching Misty’s cheek with a gentle hand. “Are you ready?”   
  
“‘S I’ll ever be, I guess,” The other witch curled her fingers around hers, and within minutes, they’d transported themselves to the police station.

 

“Big night, ladies,” The lead detective on the case smiled broadly at them. “I can’t wait to put these assholes in a dark, dark place. Judge told me herself that the death penalty looks favorable.”   


  
Misty nodded, glancing down at the little silver jar of leaves that hung against her white gypsy dress. She’d wanted black, but Cordelia’d said something about looking like an angel to scare the bastards, and Misty kind of liked that. She couldn’t have been without Stevie’s scarf around her shoulders though, to put her at ease.

 

She felt Cordelia’s hand on her waist as the detective led them to the squad car. They were going to be dropped off a few hundred yards in front of the compound, then use transmutation to find themselves inside, startling the preachers just before the cops would arrive.

 

The detective clipped a button-camera onto each of the women’s collars, along with temporary federal agent badges that Cordelia held onto in her sweater, giving them a line of defense against any attorney that had the gull to represent the preachers when the time came. Cordelia had a microphone and speaker attached behind her ear, while Misty knew that she’d be too flustered to take directions from anybody that night.

 

A team was assembled and Misty’s stomach was in utter knots as the cars pulled out into the dark of night. She was all but having a panic attack as they got closer and closer to their destination.

 

Not caring about the officers in the front of the car, Cordelia took her girlfriend’s face in her hands and pressed a hard, supportive kiss to her lips, mumbling against them, “Breathe, Misty. Breathe.”

 

They pulled up to the location of where it’d been deemed safe for the squad to hide until the witches were inside. It was the second to last night of the yearly healing revival, Misty knew. It’d been a year since she’d been killed during the very celebration. John would be down from the North, and he and Stan were likely making several little girls do terrible things to welcome the healing power of God.   


  
“They’ll be in the temple,” Misty whispered as they neared the compound gates.   


  
The women were inside in seconds, and the younger witch had to hold back her bile as she sensed the area for the presence of the despicable men. “As I thought,” She hissed, walking a little too fast towards the temple. Cordelia squeezed her hand, slowing her down as the instructions firing away in her ear commanded her to. 

 

Misty crept around the back of the shack-like place of worship she’d wasted far too much of her life in. Pressing her ear to the exit door, she heard harsh whispers coming from within, though she couldn’t make them out. Nodding to Cordelia, she commanded the lock to open, and they slipped inside the building. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but Misty followed the sound that she’d heard from outside, recognizing the voice.

 

“...God won’t accept you into his kingdom unless you let me heal you, Brianne. You have to let me purify you.”

 

She felt her stomach lurch as she continued to stalk a dark hallway, knowing that it lead to a sacrificial alter. 

 

A terrified squeak pleaded, “Please don’t hurt me.”

 

“Oh, no, Brianne. I won’t hurt you.”

 

Misty narrowed her eyes into slits as she witnessed two grown men on their knees, one behind and one in front of a nude, hysterical girl, who couldn’t have been older than seven. Feeling something that had been caged within her be set free, Misty raised a hand and threw the preachers to the wall behind an alter, shouting incoherently as she did so.

 

Cordelia pressed her lips together nervously — so much for subtlety and scare tactics. Hopefully the new aggressive approach wouldn’t get them in too much trouble. She knew it would be a moment before the men got up and started hollering, so there was time to end Misty’s hostility.   


  
She watched, though, in awe as her girlfriend’s disposition changed drastically for that split-second before the preachers could get up and realize what was happening. “Brianne? Come here, sweetie. They ain’t gonna hurt you.”

 

Brianne, a curly-haired brunette with innocence much like Cordelia imagined Misty had borne, stood trembling in place, clearly ashamed at her state. Misty took off her sacred shawl, nodding as she moved closer to the seven-year-old. She covered the small body, hiding the girl’s shame. “There we go, little darlin’. They aren’t ever gonna hurt anyone again, trust me.”

 

Cordelia took the little one and moved back, wanting Misty to face the preachers on her own for as long as she could — so long as she wasn’t doing anything too dangerous.

 

They stood and moved closer, until they realized who they were staring at.

 

“You demon witch,” John spat, a finger pointing at her direction. “I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy to stop the _devil_.”

 

Stan’s brows were knit together as he heaved his breath in and out, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “I ain’t interested in you, _witch_. You’s all grown up. And I don’t accept substitutions. Get out of this sacred house, you filthy whore _witch_. We’ll send you _straight_ to hell this time!”

 

“Here’s the thing,” Misty started, her breath coming in pants while she paced, keeping eye contact with both men. “I already been to hell. And it ain’t all the fire and brimstone you told me it would be if I didn’t let you _purify_ me like you were about to do that innocent girl. Nah. It’s worse. Worse than you could ever imagine. It’s worse than anything that you ever did or could do to me,” She tilted her head, smirking. “But you’re not going to have to imagine for long.”

 

She lifted her hands, enchanting the men into statues. She turned back to Cordelia, who was holding Brianne so that her face was pressed to her stomach and hands were covering her ears. “Misty, that’s all. The agents are a mile outside the gates, they want us out now.”

 

“I’m not done,” Misty breathed, her lower lip trembling. “Damnit, I’m not done, ‘Delia.”

 

Cordelia lifted Brianne onto her shoulder, mindful of her decency. She’d let Misty wrestle with right and wrong for a moment if she had to, but she would not let her most valuable person in her life make a mistake that might overcome her later. “I’m taking her out of here.”

 

“Wait,” The little girl called, looking up and clutching Cordelia’s shirt. “There’s more girls, my friends and my sisters, they’re downstairs. Please, you have to get them out! They’re sick!”   


  
The older witch felt sick to her stomach as directions poured into her earpiece, but she ignored them; removing the device and tossing it to the ground.

 

Misty’s eyes snapped to Cordelia and the Supreme set the small child down to direct them to the potentially dying others. Brianne lead them to a cellar door outside the temple. Misty knocked the lock off with a quick tilt of her head, then the three of them stormed down the rickety steps, where a single light at the base showed multiple faces of equalized agony. A dozen little girls, some with their wrists tied together, all sat in shock at the sight of anyone but John and Stan, though the dreary expressions on their faces and greying color made it difficult for them to express the feelings they had at rescue.

 

“Alright,” Misty nodded, determining what needed to be done — her body moving by pure instinct and adrenaline. She could not let the girls suffer — not one second longer. Seeing herself in each one of their innocent faces, she refused to let them grow up to the same terror she’d experienced. “We’re here to get you out of here. Them preachers ain’t ever gonna hurt you again, I promise. Come on girls, come on.”

 

None of them moved and in that moment, Cordelia realized it wasn’t by choice. “They’ve been poisoned,” She whispered, kneeling before one of the tiniest children, who couldn’t even have been five years old. She looked straight into her eyes, tilting her chin up so she could examine her pupils in the light.   


  
Brianne confessed, “Preacher Stan made them drink the bad juice!”  


  
“We’re going to have to carry them out—”

 

Cordelia turned as she heard footsteps retreating, and the trail of a white dress was all she saw as she realized what Misty was about to do. “Brianne, stay here,” Cordelia commanded, using transmutation to appear at the alter, where her partner was lighting candles all around with a move of her head. “Misty!” Cordelia shouted, reaching a hand out to grab the younger girl’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t stop me,” Misty cried loudly, raising the still-stiff bodies of the preachers and setting them over the wood. “Don’t try to tell me they don’t deserve this!”

 

“I won’t,” The Supreme whispered, crossing the distance to the young woman, tilting her chin to meet her eyes. “I won’t tell you they don’t deserve to die by fire, because they do. They deserve all the pain and suffering this world has to offer. But you,” She breathed, lifting a thumb to stroke delicately over Misty’s lips, “Don’t deserve to taint your beautiful soul over something as wicked as them. You’re better than that. I don’t want their blood on your hands. Your innocent, just hands. They deserve it, they deserve death and an eternity in hell. But _you_ don’t deserve to live with that.”

 

Misty shook once, twice, then fell forward, releasing the enchantment on the preachers and letting Cordelia tuck her head under her chin, kissing the top of her head and clutching her back.

 

“So you’s a filthy _lesbian_ witch, now, that right?” Stan cried, jumping off the candle-lit alter and stampeding towards the witches in love. “You really lookin’ to break e’ry commandment there is, you little slut?”

 

Misty glared up at him, wanting to suck the life right out of his lungs. Instead, she let Cordelia reach a hand up and force the two men to collide together in the air, until they hit one another at the fullest force possible, causing their bodies to land in a heap as sirens were heard drawing nearer to the compound. “Let’s get those little girls above ground so they’re ready for an ambulance.” She made the suggestion, kissing Misty’s cheek and leading her to the basement, where Brianne had begun attempting to undo knots that held tiny wrists together.   


  
They made quick work of gently removing the girls from the dirty cellar floor and settling them carefully against the outside wood wall of the temple, promising them that help was on the way.

 

By the time Misty had the last of the girls cradled in her hold, EMS workers had begun taking vitals of the little ones as Stan and John were forced from the temple in shackles, having regained enough consciousness to be dragged out over the course of time that had passed.   


  
Misty watched as they struggled to stay upright as they were tossed into police cruisers. Cordelia hooked a hand around her middle, offering her a side hug as a detective came forward and began to debrief them on what the rest of the night would look like.   


  
“...And we’ll have you come and make a full verbal statement on what you witnessed here, along with the documentation of your video recordings, we should be all clear. It’s going to take a long while for us to have all the innocent people moved out of this compound, but more help is on the way. Can we offer you a ride back to the station?”

 

Taking him up on that, the couple spent the next three hours working through the bureaucratic process at a federal investigation site. When they were nearly finished, it was four in the morning, and neither of them could handle another question. Promising to be back before the trial would begin to take care of any loose ended paperwork, the witches returned to their Coven, thoroughly exhausted.

 

Cordelia turned on the beside light with a flick of her wrist and Misty all but fell into bed, sobbing as soon as she hit the pillows.

 

The Supreme took a split second to step out of her shoes and joined the younger witch, pulling her body close as physically possible and kissing each and every part of her tear-soaked face. 

 

“I’m so proud of you, Misty,” Cordelia breathed over and over. “I’m so proud. I love you.”

 

Misty sat up and blubbered, “I almost killed somebody tonight, ‘Delia!”

 

“Someone, well, two someones, who _deserved_ to die.” Cordelia sat up to cup her face, assuring her, “They deserved that fire you wanted so badly to encase them in. I could have done it myself, Misty. But neither of us needed to take justice into our own hands. And that’s okay, because the system is going to see to it that those awful bastards do die. And it’s because of you, that they will get the miserable fate that they deserve. Misty, you have no reason to feel anything but pride right now.”

 

“I feel everything,” She managed to utter, leaning her head down so it was over Cordelia’s heart. “Too much. I wish I’d’ve marred off their faces so I didn’t have to see ‘em. They’re burned in my memory now.”

 

Cordelia rubbed her back and sighed, rocking her as she continued to cry, long and loud — the final break, she hoped, that this case would bring for Misty. “You were so brave,” She whispered, “I know you’re scared and it’s going to be awhile before you feel good again, but you’re the best person I know, Misty. Anyone else in this Coven would have killed those awful men and had their blood staining their hearts forever. But not you,” She kissed her temple. “Not you. You faced them. You said what you needed to. And now, it’s up to someone else to make sure they’re rotting in the ground.”  


  
Misty shook in a way that was starting to scare the Supreme. She tried to get out words, but all she managed as she pulled away and brought her quaking fingers to her face was, “Help me, ‘Delia!”

 

“Okay,” The witch sighed, kissing her hair. “Okay, listen, you take just a minute here, while I run out to the greenhouse. I’ve got something that will settle you down.” Kissing her cheek, Cordelia promised. “I’ll be right back, Misty.”  


  
The lone minute was too much. Misty leaned back against the pillows, curled up and chest heaving as she tried to push the negative feelings of fear and regret and everything else that had piled up for fifteen years away.

 

She was hyperventilating, unable to remotely focus on calming herself down.

 

As she promised, the Supreme was back with a very small vial of putrid green. The sight of her girlfriend, looking like one of the little girls they’d found, made tears of her own dribble down her cheeks. Cordelia knelt at the side of the bed, placing her potion down. “Misty,” She breathed her name, visualizing a nine-year-old girl curled up in shame after the fat _man of God_ had violated her. “You’re with me,” She lifted the woman’s hand, covering her heart with it, “You’re with Cordelia,” She felt odd using her own name, but it snapped Misty’s cloudy, blood-shot eyes up to meet hers. “And I love you,” The witch uttered, nodding and swallowing a thick lump of emotion in her throat, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody on this planet. And I will never, ever hurt you. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you. You’re safe now. You’re loved now. And you always will be.”

 

Misty sat up slightly to pull on Cordelia’s clothes, wanting the woman next to her. Obliging, the Supreme sat at her side while Misty curled her body around her, head in her lap. Cordelia stroked her hair, waiting for the woman’s body to relax at least some so that she’d be able to choke down the potion and allow it to be effective.

 

The necromancer’s breath was coming in more reasonable pants, her eyelids fluttering as she unclenched her fists and held onto the woman that loved her deeply. Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that one last attempt would bring her into a state where she’d be able to tolerate her homemade aid. “ _And it all comes down to you_ ,” She started to sing softly, feeling Misty’s hand reach for her own instantly, “ _Well, you know that it does...Well, lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice, and it lights up the night. And you see your gypsy...you see your gypsy..._ ”  
  
She reached over to take the vial that held the power to take Misty out of her mind’s prison. Propping the back of the woman’s head up, Cordelia confessed, “It’s going to taste absolutely terrible, but, I promise this will help.” Closing a fist around the tube she mumbled, “Relaxat et breahte anima vestra habeas requiem.”

 

Misty drank the potion, heaving after forcing it down, but feeling it’s effects in moments as her heart rate decreased and her eyelids grew heavy. She barely muttered, “Thanks, ‘Delia,” Before being guided back to the pillows and resting peacefully.   


  
Cordelia watched as her shoulders rose and fell, rose and fell while she held the little glass container. Bringing a hand up to her mouth, she gave one great sob before shaking her head and putting down the empty container. Placing her arm around Misty’s middle, she curled up around her, kissing the back of her head and sighing, shaking herself as she considered the trauma and lifetime of suffering her lover had faced without her.   


  
Vowing to herself — no matter what came between them, petty arguments or full on fights, she was not going to leave this woman. There was no force powerful enough in the universe to take Cordelia away from Misty, or to prevent the Supreme from loving her. 


	5. Chapter Five

It was after noon the following day when Misty rose, feeling a lurch in her stomach that she needed to allow to pass. Sprinting to the bathroom, she let out the contents of her intestines, holding back her hair until she felt a hand take care of it for her.

 

“‘Delia, no, I’m gross,” She said as she spat into the toilet before retching again.   
  
Cordelia squatted behind Misty, rubbing a hand over her back as she continued to vomit. “If I was willing to stab my own eyes out for you, holding your hair back while you puke hardly seems disgusting.”

 

Misty would have chuckled if she could have. Finally feeling finished, after purging a few more times, she flushed the toilet and groaned, feeling weak but better as Cordelia dropped her curly locks and she shuffled to the sink to clean out her mouth. 

 

The Supreme ran a hot bath and poured in lavender scented salts and bubbles. “You relax, sweetheart. I’ll be back to check up on you in about twenty minutes — I’ve just got to take care of a few administrative things. Oh—” She held a vial of a purple liquid, which looked much more tolerable than the one she’d had last night. “This is for anxiety, but it won’t knock you out. If you think you need it, take about half. It’ll help, but if you think you’re okay...”

 

Misty nodded, smiling as she spat out a cup of mouthwash. “I think I’m alright. That bath is lookin’ like all I need.” She lifted her dress over her head, ready to soak the troubles of the night previously away. 

 

Cordelia was back in the time that she promised, but kept the bathroom door shut as she surrounded their shared bedroom in candles and drew the curtains to the windows closed, placing a plate of bagels on the table in front of the fireplace, which she lit, for whenever Misty was ready for food. Changing out of her business attire and into a comfortable nightgown, she pulled up Misty’s Steive playlist on her mobile Spotify, letting it play over the bluetooth speakers that were on the mantle. 

 

Feeling like the room was enough to make Misty comfortable and at ease for an afternoon spent together after a trying night, she pulled out a pair of simple underwear and a thin, cotton nightdress that was worn and pilled, one of Misty’s favorites. 

 

The younger witch joined her about ten minutes later, damp hair tied up in a thick knot at the top of her head and a towel around her chest. “‘Delia,” She smiled, flushing. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

 

The Supreme offered her a sweet smile, coming to kiss her softly on the lips. “I want you to have a wonderful, relaxing day.”

 

Misty noted her favorite pajamas already laid out and turned to shake her head as her blush spread further over her cheeks. Cordelia excused herself into the restroom while her partner changed, washing her face and taking off her makeup from the morning. She had hardly slept two hours given the late night and early morning she still had to be functional for. While Misty enjoyed a dreamless sleep, Cordelia had ran regular meetings and lessons, finally declaring a half day of work when she realized the eight-hour potion would be wearing off and Misty would be awake a little past noon.   
  
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, eyeing her reflection, noticing the bags under her eyes now that she was makeup free. Still, she wasn’t intending on sleeping right away. Noting that the little bottle of anxiety relief was still full, the Supreme figured that Misty was doing okay. However, Cordelia had to ensure that Misty took time to deconstruct what had occurred the night before, in hope that her childhood demons were slowly being banished.

 

Her grin was nearly painful as she observed Misty on top of the covers, one leg bent up, revealing a firm thigh as her nightie barely covered her panties. She had one arm propping up her head, keeping her wet hair off the pillows as she sang in a whisper voice along with the song that played.

 

“ _In this city we reach up for the middle ground..._ ”

 

Cordelia joined her, “ _We throw a great party, so hearts can start to mend_ ,” She rolled into the bed next to her, pulling her over by her hip as they sang together, “ _We forgive, at least we try_.” Misty chuckled, her sincere smile back on her face for what felt like the first time in a over two months since the original confession had been made and the investigation began. “ _In the midst of the sea of dreams lies a perfect storm. In the sea of tears, lies a city ghost. In the spirit of the Mardi Gras, where people hope that their lives will get better, that their lives will get better. I wanna get a room in New Orleans. I wanna sing in the streets of the French Quarter. I wanna dress up, I wanna wear beads, I wanna wear feathers and lace, I wanna brush by Anne Rice...And go down Bourbon Street._ ”  
  
Misty leaned to the side, kissing Cordelia’s lips through a smile. “I wanna go to Mardi Gras next year. Think we could invite Stevie? It sounds like she wants to come.”   
  
Cordelia tossed her head back and laughed, giving Misty room to kiss her throat. “I think we might be able to do that. And Stevie’s probably going to be busy on tour, but who knows — maybe she’ll add a stop in our little town.”

 

The one in white sighed happily and raised her arm to stretch. “ _Miss Cordelia_ , I don’t know how you went about the morning with business as usual. I could still sleep another eight hours, and you probably got, what, one or two?”

 

Shrugging, Cordelia rubbed along Misty’s arm, pausing to trace circular patterns on her freckles. “It’s not easy being Supreme.” The younger one giggled and rolled so she was mostly on top of Cordelia, her face tucked up between her neck and shoulder, kissing long on the skin there, her lips grazing to nip lightly. “Careful, you. I can’t go walking around here with hickies all over my neck. Can you imagine the torture from the rest of this Coven?” 

 

Misty snickered again, opening her mouth to suck on the pulse point, moaning into the action, causing Cordelia to shift with an unsteady breath. She gasped and groaned when Misty’s teeth sank comfortably into the same place before pulling off and moving so that she was just a centimeter away from Cordelia’s lips. “I can heal you up just fine, little mud ‘n it’s nothing to worry about. Though I might like them to know that I can force you to make _that_ sound.” 

 

“Two can play at that game,” Cordelia kissed her hard before rolling Misty onto her back, sucking on her bottom lip and spreading one palm out over her back, using her index finger to stroke the bare skin above her nightgown.

 

Misty sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back, tucking a hand at Cordelia’s nape as she slipped her tongue past her parted lips, forcing her eyes open in surprise for just a second. She slid her hand out from under the older woman’s hair, touching her cheek and encouraging the kiss to deepen.

 

“Hey,” She breathed as Cordelia pulled away for just a moment to catch her breath, rubbing the back of her hand over her mouth as Misty sat up against the pillows a bit taller. “‘Delia, I know that...” She set a hand over her racing heart to explain, “I know that you’ll want to talk about last night, and I will too, I will, I promise, but...right now? I kinda just wanna,” She flushed, taking Cordelia’s hand and resting it on her own chest. “I kinda wanna make love with you, if that’s alright? I’m ready, I promise.”

 

Cordelia felt herself grow warm. Though she wanted nothing more than to show Misty what real love looked and felt like, the timing still didn’t seem right. She wanted to argue, but feeling her girlfriend’s heartbeat beneath her palm and staring into her certain eyes, the Supreme wondered if real, true intimacy was what Misty was ready for to start healing. Not wanting to take away from Misty’s power of her own sexual awareness, she insisted, “I’d really like that, too. But if you feel uncomfortable, at any point, please—”

 

“I’ll let you know,” Misty agreed, propping herself up with her elbows, her puffy lips ready to be kissed again. “But for now, you best be puttin’ those pretty pink lips of yours on mine.”

 

The Supreme didn’t need to be told twice as her breath hitched and she leaned down, straddling Misty fully before matching their mouths together, nipping at her bottom lip and breathing in long when the other woman tugged at her nightdress. Cordelia ignored the motion for a moment as she kept kissing Misty longer, harder, with more tongue and drive behind each movement. 

 

Finally pulling away for a brief enough time, the witch tried to tug her thin black nightgown over her head, but saw Misty shake her head. “I wanna undress you,” She mumbled as she sat up a bit taller and slowly lifted the fabric up and over Cordelia’s head, mesmerized by the sight of her glowing body. “Perfect and radiant — there couldn’t be someone more suited to be the Supreme.” She smiled before letting her eyelashes tickle her cheeks as she moved forward to kiss the space between Cordelia’s breasts before reaching a brave hand up to touch one, enjoying the way Cordelia’s breath sputtered at the sensation. 

 

She kissed the other and suddenly Cordelia’s hands were at her hair, taking out the scrunchie she’d used to tie the wet curls back with, needing to tug at _something_ as Misty showered her with undivided, unadulterated attention she wasn’t sure she’d ever honestly experienced.   
  
“Misty,” She sighed the name as the other girl’s lips continued to ghost over her sensitive skin. Cordelia was the experienced one — she should be leading their first time together. She’d be happy to release control to Misty any time after, but she wanted her first, honest love making to be about her. “Misty, let me —”

 

There were no protests as she gently pulled the other witch up by the forearm and leaned her back, freeing her body of the nightie with gentle, slow hands, that wandered down her sides afterwords, taking in the sight of two small, but perfect breasts as she did so. Hoping she wasn’t triggering anything already, the Supreme sighed, hesitant to touch. 

 

“Remember, if you want me to—”

 

“I _want_ you to kiss me somewhere naughty,” Misty ensured, using her hand to draw Cordelia’s face to her exposed chest, giggling into a sigh when her lips took the flesh she wanted the woman to.   
  
Suddenly, Cordelia’s mouth was everywhere and Misty was very thankful she wasn’t beneath the thick comforter — the warmth she was radiating could have kept the room heated for a winter.  
  
Confident that Misty would stop her if she was uncomfortable, Cordelia made work of showering every exposed inch of her girlfriend in long, open-mouthed kisses that had her groaning happily under her. Misty was running her fingers all along the witch’s bare back, not seeming to know what to do with them.

 

The witch groaned as she felt a spark when the Supreme’s lips kissed at the underside of her breast while fingers danced above them. She was feeling particularly needy somewhere she’d never had want before. Shifting, she reached for one of Cordelia’s hands and placed it at the place where her hips flared out, managing to request, “Show me, ‘Delia. How it feels.”

 

Not needing to be told twice this time, the Supreme curled her fingers into Misty’s panties, kissing the skin peaking out above them before rolling them down with agonizing slowness. As Cordelia took away the last barrier Misty had, the younger witch didn’t feel a compulsive need to stop her or curl up and hide. Rather, she craved Cordelia’s hands and mouth on every nerve in her body.   
  
As the undergarment was cast to the floor, Cordelia ran her palms over smooth legs, stopping just below Misty’s thigh, keeping eye contact with the other woman. Her lips were parted and eyes were half-lidded — she wasn’t entirely sure what was next when it was with someone who loved her.

 

“Misty,” Cordelia whispered her name, almost teary. “Misty, I love you.”

 

“I love you,” She sighed back, feeling a new lump of emotion forming as she reached a hand forward and cupped Cordelia’s face, tracing her cheekbone with her thumb and pushing herself up enough to draw their mouths together in a gentle kiss. Cordelia pushed her back as she took over the kiss, eventually sliding her lips down, over Misty’s throat and chest, down her stomach and ending at her waist, trailing her fingers from her hips to the inside of her thighs, where arousal had left the younger witch all but trembling in anticipation.   
  
“Ready?” Cordelia breathed and Misty nodded twice, her lips parted once again as her chest made great heaves and her back arched slightly, demonstrating her desire. Still, Cordelia wanted to assure her, “I’ve never...Hank was the only...If-if something doesn’t feel right, or you want me to stop—”

 

“I’ll let you know,” Misty bobbed her head again, confident that Cordelia had only her happiness in mind as the witch’s fingers traced vine-like patterns on the inside of her leg and she closed her eyes.   
  
Suddenly, Cordelia’s touch was where she wanted. Misty sucked in a sharp breath as two fingers slid over and inside her, while lips fell onto her open mouth. Cordelia let out an equally sweet moan and pushed in and out slowly, experimentally. Misty tucked her forehead against the other woman’s as she pressed hard with her thumb over an even more sensitive place.

 

“‘Delia,” She groaned the name, above her lover’s mouth, “That-that feels—uuhh-huh.”

 

Feeling Cordelia smile into her kiss that she pressed to her lips once more, the pad of her thumb began to stroke up and down and Misty had to pull away from the kiss to throw her head back against the pillows and arch her hips up. She bit her lip while the Supreme moved a little faster, moving the fingers that were inside her so all her focus was on the bundle of nerves that was causing Misty to lose her breath.

 

Her heart was pounding and she could sense her pulse in her temples as Cordelia took her lips to her neck, sucking in the same spot Misty had found tingles with before. The younger witch was nearly pushing her away as she tried to relish in the sensation that was forcing her to go numb in nearly every part of her body.   
  
“Don’t stop,” Misty pleaded, half opening one eye to witness Cordelia moving her mouth from her neck to her breast, pulling up on one of the small mounds with her teeth and forcing the other witch to grip her shoulders to hold her in place, while the hand between Misty’s thighs built up an increased speed. 

 

 The receiver was all but panting as the Supreme kissed her way down and settled her mouth at the crease of her leg, making Misty’s eyes snap all the way open and pull her back up to her own lips — not sure she was ready for _that_. “Jus’ keep...don’t stop your—” Cordelia took the hint and licked her partner's lips, forcing her tongue inside Misty’s mouth as she moved impossibly fast below her waist. “Delia,” She rolled the name against her tongue repeatedly. “Ah, ‘Delia— I, somethin’s, I —”

 

Suddenly feeling her thighs quake and fireworks shoot off in her brain, Misty grabbed at Cordelia’s hand, unsure that she’d be able to take any more pleasure without withering. She held the woman still to her, never wanting to take her out of her hold as her legs settled and Cordelia tried to glide her hand that had been at her breast over Misty’s sides, but felt the protest, “M-mh,” Misty shook her head once, far too sensitive for even the sweetest touch as her inner walls closed together repeatedly.   
  
Cordelia smirked against her partner’s pale skin, tilting her head back to watch as Misty’s eyes were closed and her breath came through her parted lips. She slowly worked her fingers through Cordelia’s hair as if to thank her for the feeling she’d just achieved.   
  
The Supreme kissed slowly across Misty’s chest, speechless at the beautiful girl’s reaction to her touch. Sex with her former husband had been generally forced — walking through the motions of intimacy, she’d never been made to feel the way she’d just allowed Misty to. Any bliss she’d achieved had been due to magic or herself — and knowing that just her love for Misty had been made clear authentically was beyond words.

 

When Misty finally stopped seeing stars, she opened her eyes to glance down at Cordelia, a sleepy numbness over her limbs. “You’re wonderful, you know that?” She mumbled, tucking her chin down to drop a sloppy kiss to the top of the woman’s head. “‘N I love you, more than words can say.”  
  
Propping herself up with an elbow, Cordelia touched the hair that framed Misty’s face. “And I hope that I just expressed how much I love you.” She pecked her lips once, twice, then gave her lover a long kiss before sighing and rolling to her side, keeping one leg tucked up over Misty’s abdomen. 

 

As Misty rejoined the relative plane of reality, she became aware of all that was around them — the warmth of the blankets and the fire crackling along the wood, the candles that framed the room, and the soft sounds of _Moonlight_ playing from the mantle. She hummed along, seeking Cordelia’s hip with her palm, stroking down. Their eyes spoke to one another — something in the other witch’s gaze let the younger know that she didn’t need to reciprocate the actions right away — not that she didn’t want to, but she was quite certain Cordelia sucked the energy right out of her.   
  
A few minutes of quiet passed between them before Misty felt an involuntary shiver roll through her and Cordelia noticed, pulling the bunched up quilt out and over her, then laid on her back and pulled Misty to her. “You can sleep,” She quietly assured her. “I’ll stay with you.”

 

“You’re too good to me,” The curly-haired blonde sighed, nestling against warm skin. 

 

“No,” Cordelia promised, “This is what love is supposed to be. I may not have ever experienced it before to confirm, but, it feels right.”  
  
Misty nodded, kissing her shoulder and letting her eyes close.   
  
X  
  
A soft knock at the door alerted Cordelia to consciousness several hours later. She was about to pull herself out of bed when she recognized a weight missing from her chest and noted Misty tugging on a robe over her thin nightie, answering with her typical drawl, “Hey, Kyle. Aww, sweetie, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”   
  
She closed the door with no noise and set down a tray of dinner in front of the fire place. She glanced back to see Cordelia was sitting up, the blanket drawn around her. “Shit, I was hopin’ he hadn’t woken you.”

 

“It’s fine,” The Supreme yawned and stood up, finding her own top before joining Misty in front of the fireplace, plopping herself down on the love seat. Misty pulled the coffee table closer to her before taking the seat beside her, eyeing the dinner.   
  
“Kyle’s getting to be a really good cook,” She shrugged, leaning forward to take a plate of some sort of stir-fry dish. “He even remembers to skip the meat on mine, bless his heart.”

 

Cordelia took her own, not having realized just how hungry she was. She’d always liked sitting casually in front of the fire and enjoying a meal with Misty, but things felt a bit more solidified now. She wasn’t sure if it was the first step in their sexual relationship, the fact that they’d begun the burial of the final ghosts of the past the night before, or the promise she’d made to herself just after giving Misty the potion — but somehow, she felt they were officially inseparable now. 

 

Misty wolfed down her food before heading to the cabinet next to the desk, rolling open the door to reveal a collection of wine. She’d never been much of a drinker, but a glass of Chardonnay with her girlfriend at night tended to hit the spot. Taking two crystal glasses, she brought the beverage over to Cordelia, pouring them each a generous serving.   
  
Cordelia set her plate down and took hers, a grand smile spread across her face as Misty tucked her feet under her, tilted her head and stated, “To you, and me, and this crazy, but absolutely amazing life we’re building together. Thank you, Cordelia.”

 

“Thank you, Misty,” She clinked the glasses together and took Misty’s hand as they both swung back their first sip. “I’m hoping we can talk about last night, at least a little bit. There’s probably a lot that you’re feeling, and I’d like to help you sort through it.”

 

“Honestly,” The younger giggled, smirking. “I’m a little preoccupied by what I felt earlier to think too much on what happened last night.” Cordelia squeezed her knee and Misty lifted her shoulders. “Nah. I mean, I...” She stared at the liquid in her glass, shrugging again. “I’m a little repulsed by myself, actually. I almost killed two people. And had you not been there to stop me, I probably would’ve.” 

 

Cordelia tilted her head. “Not that they didn’t deserve it. You’d have done the world a favor if you had acted on your urges, but,” She bit her lower lip before explaining, “You’re not a judge. You can’t prescribe death onto anyone because you feel like they deserve it — that was Fiona’s way, and that of generations before her. If you start making decisions like that, your mission isn’t selfless anymore. Then, you turn into an executioner. Everyone thinks their cause is just, Misty. People like my mother thought they was doing society a favor by killing people. But we all know, Fiona Goode, and many others, did not always kill with intentions of gold.”

 

Misty nodded. “They deserve to die. But I can’t be their killer,” She sighed out loud. “I’m better than that...” A beat passed between them before Misty raised her brows, a tiny, genuine smile falling over her. “We saved all those little girls. That felt good. I mean, even if they’ve been hurt before — now, at least they ain’t gonna get hurt anymore. Do you know where they went?”

 

“The judge ordered them into a temporary group home, so they didn’t have to be split off right away. They’ll likely enter into foster care until their mothers are deemed fit enough to care for them.”

 

Nodding, Misty let out another puff of air. “I guess, it’s kinda hard. No one ever came for me, you know? I used to pray that somebody cared enough to get me outta that place. But God never listened.” Cordelia reached over to take a blonde curl between her fingers, offering a sympathetic glance as she scooted closer to Misty. The younger one rested a hand in her girlfriend’s lap, offering, “But at least I have someone to help me get rid of all that darkness now. ‘Delia, I know you don’t want my thanks but...you did save me. You’ve saved me in so many ways.”

  
Cordelia placed her wine glass down and touched Misty’s face with gentle appreciation. “I’ll always be here to help you through anything that comes your way, or our way. Nothing can stop me from doing whatever it takes to secure your happiness.”

 

Misty felt her lower lip tremble, but she refused to cry any more tears over the atrocities of her past. Instead, she moved her mouth over Cordelia’s, thanking her without words.

 


	6. Chapter Six

Cordelia wished she hadn’t been so heavy with her mascara in the morning; she really needed to rub at an eye to keep them open. She’d finished paying the bills — her usual Friday morning chore at the start of the month. Each time she did this, Queenie drove Misty and a group of the younger girls in the Coven in their van to the swamp, collecting mud and other herbal remedies that grew best naturally. It kept their supplies in check, and the little ones out of the headmistress’s hair while she dealt with business. Her older students knew better than to intrude, so when a tentative knock came at her door, Kyle stood awkwardly with a hand stuffed in his pocket. “Sorry to interrupt,” He claimed, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet. “There’s a lady here to see you — I didn’t recognize her. Didn’t want to let her in.”

 

“Okay,” The Supreme stood, smoothing her black, knee-length skirt out as she rose and followed him to the entryway. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and was a little miffed at having to spend her last half hour of quiet entertaining a guest.

 

Opening the front door, she found a thin, frail looking woman, draped in a long, grey sweater that was far too big, and navy leggings that were baggy around the ankles. She had on a pair of flip-flops, the free, disposable kind that Cordelia remembered seeing when she’d volunteered at woman’s shelters in college. Her cheeks were sunken in, but there was something distinct about the shape of her face and the hue of her eyes that was startlingly familiar.   
  
“Can I help you, ma’am?” Cordelia wondered, closing the door shut behind her and moving closer to the stairs where the guest stood.

 

The woman nodded, awkwardly, fiddling with a brown paper bag. “I-I...is it true? Does, um...does Misty Day live here?”

 

“May I ask who you are and what you need with Misty?” The Supreme asked, crossing her arms, not willing to give away any information she might not have needed to. 

 

“Oh, oh,” The skittish lady nodded — Cordelia tried not to cringe at the discomfort she was sensing. “I’m, I’m sorry. You’re Miss Goode, right? The leader? Right?”

 

“Yes, that’s me,” She nodded, still waiting for an explanation.   
  
“Good, okay. Um, well, I’m, uh, I’m Hanna Day. I’m Misty’s mama.”

 

“Shit,” Cordelia spilled out, turning away, wondering if she should use coercion to convince the woman to leave and forget she’d ever been present. Misty would be home within the hour, and the last thing Cordelia wanted her to show up to was the woman who’d knowingly sent her off to be molested, raped, and killed. 

 

Hanna, her brown hair having been clearly recently clipped into a pixie cut frowned and started to cry silent tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’ta come. I weren’t meanin’t’ ruin your day, Ms. Goode, I’ll just be leavin’ now, I—”

 

“Hey,” Feeling a twinge of guilt but mostly simple uncertainty over how to handle the situation, the witch closed her eyes and sighed. “Don’t go, listen, I’m a little flustered that you’re here. Misty means a great deal to me, and I’m worried that your presence might be upsetting to her.”

 

“I’m sure it would, I just...here,” She shoved the brown paper bag into Cordelia’s arms. “I was given this by one’a the girls ya’ll rescued. She said it belonged to m’daughter, and if I was goin’ to see her, I aught’a give it back.”

 

“Her shawl,” Cordelia smiled and nodded. “She’ll be very happy to have it back.” 

 

“Yeah,” The woman stuffed her now-empty hands into her sweater’s pockets, keeping her eyes on the ground as she smiled. “I don’t-I don’t suppose she’d be wantin’ to see me, ‘nyway. Yeah, she wouldn’, I don’ know what I was thinkin’ at all. ‘M sorry, Ms. Goode.”  


Closing her eyes, sure she was going to regret her choice, Cordelia offered, “Mrs. Day, why don’t you come in? Misty’s not home right now. I could get you some tea?”

 

“I-I, that’d...I don’ wanna overstep, none. Make ‘er mad that I were here when she weren’t.”  
  
“Well, _I’m_ inviting you in. You can choose to accept or reject that invitation.”

 

She watched as Hanna struggled between running off the steps and past the gates and entering the home. “I guess, I guess tea might be nice, yeah.”

 

“Alright,” Cordelia squared out her shoulders, leading the woman inside, feeling her heart hammering at her chest. “Kyle?” She called and the boy appeared at her side, ever faithful. “Could you put on a kettle? Bring it to my office when it’s done?”

 

She didn’t wait for a response — she knew what the answer would be, as she lead Hanna through the hall and into the room she’d been in previously.

 

“This is the biggest house I ever been to,” Misty’s mother marveled, and for a moment Cordelia wondered what her girlfriend’s first thoughts of her home were as well. “Misty lives here?”

 

“Yes,” Cordelia confirmed inviting her to sit with a motion of her hands. The woman tentatively took a seat in a chair.

 

“She’s lucky. She deserves this, yeah. Misty deserves this nice house.” Her eyes fell onto a picture of the couple that sat behind Cordelia’s desk. “Is that— Is that a picture, of my girl?”

 

The Supreme turned around to where she was pointing and smiled at the sight, Zoe had snapped it on her phone one night after evening gathering. They were curled up along the love seat in the living room, neither focused on anything but one another. It was a humbling picture of their relationship that Cordelia was proud to display.   
  
“This is us, yes.” She cleared her throat, wondering exactly how the religious woman would feel knowing her daughter was not only a witch, but a lesbian.

 

“She’s so lucky, t’have you, ‘n this house. You take care’a her?”

 

Cordelia leaned back against her desk, rubbing her finger over the image with a shrug. She decided if Hanna couldn’t handle the news about their relationship, she didn’t even deserve the opportunity to see her Misty. “We take care of each other. Misty and I are...partners. Romantically.”   
  
Hanna opened and closed her mouth, then wrinkled her brows together. “Do y’love her?”

 

“With all my heart,” Cordelia responded, keeping steady eye-contact, showing she was not afraid of the other woman’s opinion of her and Misty’s sexuality.

 

“Well,” Hanna sighed. “I used t’think I knew what was right and what was wrong. I thunk that God’s word was all there was. But I know the preachers were doin’ terribly wrong things. And I know that none of us deserved it, ‘specially not my sweet Misty. Ms. Goode, I don’t know how lovin’ somebody can be wrong. And if God says it is, then I’m just gonna ignore ‘im, ‘cause I put my Misty thought ‘nough. She deserves somebody t’love her.”

 

“Good,” Cordelia spoke shortly, thanking Kyle for the tea as he arrived with a tray. She poured Hanna a cup and wish she still kept a flask in her desk for her own, wondering if the woman knew what sort of school she was in, if she even knew of Misty’s power or wrongful death. Instead of asking questions, she sipped her tea in silence for a few moments, feeling resentment building up by the second as she stared at the woman who’d shipped her lover off to receive the only treatment worse than the literal hell she was trapped in for a time.   
  
Unable to bear her thoughts for another moment, she calmly stated, “I would like to yell at you, for what you put Misty through. I’d like to know how you could knowingly send a little girl off to be tortured, and still live with yourself. But I’m not sure I want to know the answers, and it would accomplish nothing.”

 

“Ms. Goode,” Hanna wiped under her eyes, catching thick tears with her thumbs. “I know it won’t help, but y’aught t’know why I done made arrangements for her to be livin’ with Poppy ‘n ‘em.” She placed her teacup down, running a hand through her short hair, drawing her knees up to her chest, and she looked every bit Misty as she did so. “The preacher, John, he wanted to kill my baby girl for speakin’ out ‘gainst him, ‘n fronta the whole congregation. He was gonna my stone Misty,” She bit back a sob. “I said, I said to him — now, there ain’t no sense killin’ perfectly healthy child. Maybe Stan down South has use of her.”

 

Cordelia felt her insides churning at the confession. “You sent your daughter to be raped repeatedly so that she wouldn’t be murdered?”

 

Hanna hid her face in shame. “I know it ain’t much better! But I couldn’t bear the thought o’my baby girl gettin’ killed! In the community, by the time you’s ten, the preachers stop. They don’t wanna mess with girls any older ‘an that. I figured, she had two more years to deal with it — we all did, ev’ry girl who ever lived there had it happen to them at some time or ‘nother. They just know how t’be quiet. I didn’t want my baby gettin’ hurt just cause she knows right and wrong, but I figure — it better t’hurt for a little while than be dead forever.”

 

Cordelia had to excuse herself from the room suddenly overwhelmed with fury. As she was in the doorway, she commanded, “Don’t leave.” Pacing back and forth in the hallway, Cordelia ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure out if she was supposed to be grateful or angry at the news.   
  
Deciding it wasn’t her judgement to make, the Supreme returned to the office and calmly explained, “Misty will be back in less than ten minutes. I’d like you to go before then. I’ll take the name of the shelter you’re staying at, but I’m going to leave any additional contact up to Misty. You’re not to return to this place without her permission, and you’re not to seek her out otherwise. Do you understand?”

 

Hanna bit her lip and nodded, sputtering out the name of the downtown shelter, clearly trying not to continue crying. Cordelia, in some twisted sense of misplaced guilt, turned to her desk and the checkbook that was still lying on the surface. Against her better judgement, she hastily scrawled out a hundred and three dollar check, calmly saying, “There’s a Check and Go about six blocks over. They’ll cash this for three dollars. Use it wisely.”   
  
X

  
Misty was twirling one of the younger girls as they sang to the music playing in the kitchen. They’d returned nearly forty minutes ago, and still, she’d seen no sign of the headmistress. Usually the woman joined them for lunch before releasing the juniors to an afternoon of independent tasks while she assessed older girls for progress. 

 

“There’s my dancin’ partner,” Misty giggled as Cordelia walked into the room, but hastily silenced herself as she noted the Supreme’s demeanor.   
  
“Girls,” She said sharply, addressing the young group before her. “The afternoon is to be spent getting caught up on your reading and finishing your homework. Then you’ll have the weekend to yourselves. Go on.” They scampered off, leaving Cordelia to take a few deep breaths before reaching for Misty’s hands, seriously explaining, “We need to go to the office.”

 

“What the hell happened?” Misty demanded to know, touching Cordelia’s face, not seeing any sign of injury on her. “Are you hurt?”

 

“No,” She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Leading Misty down the hall, Cordelia felt guilty for taking away the free spirit she’d been displaying before she stepped into the room.   
  
They stepped into the office and Misty immediately gasped and ran to the chair in front of the desk. “My shawl from Stevie! ‘Delia, you got it back! Jeeze, you didn’t have to be all serious about it,” She chuckled and wrapped the black fabric around her, then drew Cordelia in for a sweet kiss to her cheek before nuzzling her hair. 

 

“That’s not...it’s how I got it that I need to tell you about.”

 

The younger woman twirled once, thankful to be reunited with the special item. “Did that sweet little Brianne stop by? You should’a had her wait, I’d have liked to seen her—”

 

Cordelia closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, “Please, sit, Misty.” Sensing that the seriousness hadn’t changed, the witch complied, looking up. “Your, um...your mother stopped by, to bring it back.”  
  
That got Misty’s attention. She went pale in a heartbeat and her jaw fell open as her breath came in short pants. “My mother? She ain’t still here, is she?”

 

“No, no, I had her leave. She had an awful lot to say, though,” Cordelia knelt in front of her girlfriend. “I’m sorry, I’m sure this is upsetting.”

 

“Damn straight,” Misty whispered, her hair flying as she shook her head. “I haven’t seen her since she shoved me in that car when I was eight!”

 

“I know,” Cordelia squeezed her knees. “I didn’t really know what to do. I thought about what it was like the first time I saw my mother after years, and I was so damn angry with her, I wanted to rip her throat out — but all I wound up doing was sobbing while she ridiculed me. I don’t know what sort of reaction you might have, or what your mother might say or do. But, it might be a good idea to see her while she’s still around.” The Supreme shrugged, honestly. “She didn’t look well.”

 

Misty was all but convulsing as she dealt with the notion of her mother. “‘Delia, I don’t know what to say, or feel, or...” She let out a small cry.   
  
Cordelia drew her in for a long hug, listening to her partner and wishing that she’d just be able to lose all the painful pieces of her past and move forward with her life. The Supreme kissed the fresh tears on her cheek. “I’m sorry, Misty. I just wanted to be honest with you, I knew it was going to be difficult.”

 

“Did she try tellin’ you that she was sorry for sending me off?” Misty wanted to know, tucking her head on Cordelia’s chest as she continued to lean forward in the embrace.

 

“In a way. But I think it might be better if you let her explain that for herself.”   
  
“I will throw up if I have to see her,” Misty assured herself. “I can’t do that.”

 

Cordelia pressed her forehead against Misty’s, promising her, “You faced the men who did such terrible things to you and you not only survived, but came out stronger for it.”

 

Feeling a little woozy, Misty pushed herself up off Cordelia and stood, crossing her arms. “Well, I ain’t goin’ alone. ‘N fact, I don’t wanna go see her. If she really wants to see me, she can come to me.”

 

Cordelia nodded. “I’ll always be here when you need me. And we can arrange for her to come back, maybe — the greenhouse? The place you’re most comfortable.”

 

“Well, that’d be our bed,” She said with a playful smile to show she wasn’t harboring any bad feelings for Cordelia. “But I don’t want her ruinin’ any good thing in my life. This room’ll do.” She sighed, scratching under her hair while she winced and wondered out loud, “Where she been staying?”

 

“A woman’s shelter, about ten miles North. I think she took the bus then walked the rest of the way here.”

 

“Shit,” Misty bit her lip. “She didn’t look like she has bugs, did she? Itchin’ her head a lot?”

Cordelia opened and closed her mouth. “Um, not that I noticed. Were...lice a common problem in the compound?”

 

“Couldn’t keep ‘em away. Hope she’s not infecting every troubled soul in town. Oh well. You probably didn’t make enough contact with her to get ‘em if she has any.”

 

“Her hair was cut real short — into a pixie. It looked nice. She was clean. Very frail, but, kept.”

 

“That’d be a big improvement,” Misty rubbed a hand over her face. “Oh, ‘Delia, why’d we get stuck with such crummy mama’s?”

 

The Supreme lifted her shoulders and crossed the distance between them, placing her hands gingerly on Misty’s hips, drawing little circles with her thumbs. “Myrtle once told me that someday, it’d be so that I’d know how _not_ to raise my daughter,” She sighed and touched a long black feather that hung loose in Misty’s hair. “‘Course, I couldn’t conceive one. So I’m really not sure.”

 

Misty leaned forward with a sweet smile, kissing Cordelia’s neck. “You’d make an absolutely amazing mama, ‘Delia.”

 

“So would you,” She replied, in a soft whisper, her eyelids lowering as the younger witch caught her lips, sucking on the bottom one. “Misty,” She pulled back to blink in sincerity. “I mean it. You’d make a great mama, too.”

 

Cuddling in the standing embrace, Misty nodded. “I wouldn’t ever send my little girl off to a rapist. If that’s all it takes to make a good mama, I’ve got it in the bag, I suppose.”

 

Cordelia groaned and squeezed the other witch, knowing the teasing jest wasn’t meant to be funny. “I wouldn’t ever abandon my daughter or make her watch me drink myself half to death or snort up coke, or bring home all kinds of strange men. And I’d never, ever, make her feel like she was anything less than spectacular.”

 

“Shit,” Misty declared. “We’d be great mommies. Wanna make a baby and raise it right?”

 

The Supreme laughed out loud, cupping her girlfriend’s cheeks. “Slow down, Misty Day. We just took down the evil leaders of a cult and are trying to raise up this Coven. Give me a year to adjust to Supreme-hood and get you all to myself. Then we’ll talk.”

 

Misty giggled, “‘M just teasin’. A little bit. You want to wait a year, you say?” Cordelia kissed her smile and squeezed her tight. “‘M holdin’ you to it, Miss Supreme. March eighteenth of next year, you best be ready. ‘M’a figure out a way to put a baby in you.”  
  
“Well, let’s finish business with your mother first, then. Come on, I’ll make some arrangements. Think you’ll be ready tomorrow evening?”

 

“Stealin’ my Saturday?” She scrunched up her nose but sighed her agreement. “Let’s get it over with, then.”  
  
X  
  
Misty missed the sound of the cicadas humming as she sat, ants in her pants, waiting for five-thirty to come around the following evening. She’d gone from pacing to shifting every which way in her seat, twirling her hair, back to pacing and finally, flopping on the love seat of the main meeting room quite dramatically. Cordelia watched, eyes locked on her short dress, yellow with turquoise patterns trailing down the front, bunched up in the middle with a wide, tan belt, and adorned with her usual amount of necklaces, rings, and bangles. She had a sweater resting on thepillow nearest her head, that she’d taken off in fear of sweating through it in nerves. “She’s late.”

 

“City buses aren’t always reliable,” Cordelia explained. “It’s the reason why many low-income people struggle to retain jobs.”

 

“Yeah, well,” She huffed, leaning over the edge of the couch, shrugging. “I’d make a point to see my estranged daughter on time.”   
  
Cordelia squatted in front of her, planting a warm kiss on her lips, about to make a retort when a cleared throat from the doorway forced Misty to sat up in a snap. Kyle stood with his hands behind his back, nodding to Hanna. “This lady is here again. Said she was supposed to come in.”

 

Misty was frozen as she drank in the sight of her mother — nearly skin and bones, grey flesh-tone slightly offset by her pixie cut. She was wearing a large t-shirt and pair of jeans that didn’t fit properly either, along with flip-flops made of cheap plastic. She looked nothing like the woman that the witch remembered. She felt her lip quiver and she stood, smoothing her dress down and shrugging her shoulders.

 

Hanna strode a few steps closer, eyes already beginning to water. She was at least five inches shorter than Misty, her hands twisting to try and stop trembling as she approached. Neither spoke a word and Cordelia wasn’t sure if she should fade away or stay near Misty’s side.   
  
She was about to back off when Misty’s hand gripped furiously for her own, and Cordelia simply nodded, assuring the younger woman she wasn’t leaving the room. 

 

“Misty,” Hanna spoke first, after an awkward minute of silence. “Hey, baby girl.”

 

Misty closed her eyes at the nickname — practically feeling gentle hands securing a braid in her hair or patting her back when she couldn’t sleep.

 

Still — she didn’t know how to react to it now. Knowing what she did in present time, those soft touches of motherhood didn’t seem to matter. “I guess I aughtta give you credit. Takes a lot of nerve comin’ here after what you had done to me,” The witch replied, “ _Mama_.”

  
Hanna reached her tentative hand out and touched the pads of her fingertips to Misty’s upper arm. “You’re so tall.” 

 

“Get it from daddy, I suppose. He dead?”

 

“Shot,” Hanna nodded twice. “‘Bout a year after you left.”

 

“Hm,” The blonde raised her shoulders and pulled back. “He deserve it?”

 

“No one deserves to die, Misty,” Hanna insisted, eyeing the floorboards.

 

That was rich — Misty nearly laughed. “Oh, really? That’s why you let me die inside every damn Saturday night for three years of my life? Or why you let them tie me up and burn me at the stake? Not that you’d’ve known, ‘course. That’d mean you’d have to have come an’ visit me to know that I’m a goddamn _witch_.”   
  
“There were rumors,” The mother wiped at her face, clearly uncomfortable with the way that Misty used the Lord’s name in vain. “But then Poppy confirmed it, sent me a letter ‘n secret. I was mournin’ like you’d never seen.”

 

“Sure you were,” Misty flopped back on the couch, feeling very much in charge of the conversation. “Just like you were sad to put me in the back of that car, keep tellin’ me all about it. Maybe I’ll start to get a real feelin’ for your pain.”  
  
Hanna covered her mouth, standing in front of Misty while Cordelia took a seat next to her girlfriend, squeezing her lap. “What’d’ya wanna hear from me, Misty? That I regret sendin’ ya’off? Cause I don’t. I don’t regret it.”

 

“Oh,” Misty shrugged, pressing her lips together. “That’s just perfect then. Why don’t you get he hell outta here—”

 

“I don’t regret sendin’ya down South, ‘cause you’d’ve been dead at eight if I hadn’t.” She took a shaky breath. “John was gonna kill you that day you blabbed. He was gonna stone you, to death. I could not let that happen, not t’my baby girl. I knew that Stan would do ya’somethin’ awful. I did — but I thought a couple’a years a bad touchin’ would be worth bein’ alive for when it were over. And, I know, it ain’t been an easy road, but look’a’cha now, baby girl. You lives in a fancy home, ya shacked up with some lady who loves ya more’n anything in her world. I think it was worth livin’ for.” 

 

Misty was silent for a long time. Cordelia kept her hands on her girlfriend’s legs, offering her comfort, but not wanting to take over the moment. Hanna paced a little bit in front of the women as the youngest tried to swallow the truth.

 

“You meanin’ to tell me, you had me sent off, knowin’ I’d be raped repeatedly by a terrible old man, instead of having me killed then and there? You really thought that those were your only options?”

 

“D’ya wanna know what’t was like for me after y’left?” Hanna cried, lifting up her shirt just past her belly button, revealing dozens of scars and burn marks. “All me looks like this. This is what happens when y’speak ‘gainst a preacher! I couldn’t’a let ‘em abuse my baby girl!”

  
Misty buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Cordelia pulled her close, kissing her hair while she silently cried. She whispered, “Do you want me to see her out?”

 

“Not yet, I ain’t done,” Misty finally sniffed and sat up, looking worse for wear. “You might’a been burned, and hit, but I was burned _alive_ , mama. They threw gasoline on my body and lit a match, then sent me up in flames. So don’t think I don’t know what torture they’re capable of.”

 

Hanna had her turn to cry, “I didn’t know, Misty, honest I didn’t know. All I e’r wanted was to visit, but John say no, no, no. Never even a hint at a yes. He never even let me send my letters to ya.”

 

“Alright, well,” Misty breathed out long and hard, before looking up at Cordelia, who offered her an expression that read: do what you feel is best. “I’ve heard just about enough. I understand, that, you feel justified in your decision. I don’t feel the same way, and I doubt I ever will. I think it’s for the best that you just keep goin’ on livin’ your life, not knowin’ about your daughter, and I’ll pretend that I don’t know you’re just up town.”   


Shrugging, Hanna confessed, “I had t’try’n see you ‘fore I went. I’m headin’ to Utah — ‘s where my mama had me taken down here. Maybe I can find my grannie up there. Gotta be worth’a shot.” She twiddled her thumbs together, desperately wanting to pull her daughter in for an embrace. “Not sure ‘f I’ll e’er be back, baby girl. Chances I can get a hug goodbye?”   
  
Misty, though surly and resentful, knew that even Cordelia had the decency to hug the wicked Supreme off when she saw her alive for the last time. “On one condition,” Misty declared, standing. “Don’t be puttin’ my name down on any next of kin type deals. I don’t wanna bury you.”

 

Hanna pressed her lips together and gave one firm nod. “You won’t hear from me ‘gain.”

 

She reached her arms out and pulled Misty’s body to hers. The witch could feel her mother’s bones and cringed at the sensation, but let her continue to have her moment. It didn’t feel right, it wasn’t a loving embrace — it was a sad, and desperate one. Still, she leaned into it, getting a whiff of a scent that was distinctly her mother. “Alright,” She pulled back, staring into Hanna’s eyes. “‘It’s best if you get goin’.” Misty reached into the pocket of her dress, pulling out a few wrinkled bills. “I know ‘Delia already gave you some, but this’ll be for the bus to Utah, then. Don’t come back, mama.”

 


	7. Chapter Seven

Days faded into weeks, and over a month and past two — Misty spent her time working in the Coven as Cordelia’s right-hand and experimenting with healing on animals that otherwise would have been euthanized at the New Orleans Humane Society. She had a core group of older witches that she was working with, all of whom showed exceptional promise using their natural power combined with Cordelia’s excellently perfected potions to save innocent animals.   
  
Everything was ordinary as June greeted them with muggy air and a summer vacation for many of the witches who had families outside of the Coven. Though any and all were welcome to stay, Cordelia was shortening and making classes into electives for the summer months — hoping to give her students a break and allow them to continue normal life outside the academy if they wanted to.

 

Misty woke earlier than her girlfriend on a Wednesday morning. It was hardly past dawn, but something inside of her was fluttering with a misplaced nervousness that she could not identify. Though she wanted to curl up around Cordelia and snuggle her tight or wake her up with her body — she also wanted the older witch to sleep in as long as she could. Silently shuffling around the room, Misty got herself dressed in a white, sleeveless top that had fringe from her belly-button to her hips, and a pair of form-fitting, brown shorts to wear with it. Tugging on ankle boots and settling a tan hat atop her hair after attaching several colored feather extensions, she made her way out to the greenhouse, which was doubling as her magical research facility.

 

She smiled at the sight of her latest miracles — a litter of four German Shepherd-mixed puppies that had been neglected by their owners after discovering a near fatal, genetic intestinal issue. Misty and Cordelia developed a potion to alter the lining of the stomach, saving them from their own acids. Nearly a week later, they were lively and puppy-like — ready to be turned over to new families. She’d managed to convince the Supreme they aught to have at least _one_ more day with the pups, _just to be sure_.  
  
Lifting one up, she scratched behind his ears and kissed the top of his head, wishing that she could keep him. “Okay, lil’pup. Ready for your last exam by Doctor Misty?”  
  
She set him on the work counter, convincing him to sit with a firm pat to his rump. Breathing out, she closed her eyes and ran a hand over his back, breathing easy. “I think it’s safe to say you’ve got a clean bill of health, lil’pup. I’m almost disappointed, I’d like to keep you around.” He licked her hand and Misty pouted, rubbing his side as he rolled onto his back for a better scratch. “Yeah, but ‘Delia’s not much of a dog person, I’m afraid. She don’t mind savin’ you, but she ain’t gonna keep you.”

 

Misty played with the whole litter after inspecting each one of them, putting them back in their play pen, despite her desire to take them into the house and let them curl up somewhere cozy. Cordelia would have an absolute fit at the sight of dog hair on her white cushions, though, and Misty loved her too much to give her anxiety over having a puppy in the house.

 

Returning to the inside of the academy walls and noting it was already six forty-five in the morning, the witch washed her hands and set to work making breakfast — knowing Cordelia wouldn’t let herself sleep past seven, even on a summer day where she wasn’t holding a gathering until three.

 

Setting a plate of toast and cup of fruit on a small, silver tray along with two cups of coffee, Misty carefully carried the breakfast up the stairs, smirking when she opened their room to hear Cordelia moaning at the sound of her alarm clock.

 

The Supreme sat up, disheveled as anything as she turned off the wretched noise, rubbing at an eye with a pout on her lips until she saw Misty. “Did you bring me breakfast?” She asked with a gravely voice.

 

Misty smirked and came forward with the bowl of mixed fruit, popping a strawberry into Cordelia’s mouth, kissing her sleepy lips after she finished chewing. “Thank you,” She mumbled, learning her head forward and letting her messy blonde locks spill over Misty’s shoulder and back. “Is there really any agenda today? I can’t even bring myself to think this morning, let alone check my schedule.”

 

“You’ve got nothin’ but a midday gathering at three o’clock this afternoon. I already checked on and fed the pups — far’s I’m concerned, you’re free to spend the day in bed with me if you’d like.”

 

Cordelia took a slice of pineapple and smiled as she bit into it, swallowing before answering, “Believe me, I’d _like_.”   
  
“Good,” The younger witch pushed the tray onto her girlfriend’s lap. “Eat up, you. I’m gonna run to grab your computer so you can answer any important e-mails, then you’re _mine_.”   
  
Misty pecked her lips again before scampering off to the study, unplugging Cordelia’s Macbook and returning in a dash, opening the cover and typing in the password, turning the laptop around and setting it down next to Cordelia, who laughed. “Eager much?”

 

She shrugged. “I’m real antsy today. Hopin’ you can help me get that outta my system.”

 

“Here I was going to relax and take my time,” The Supreme teased and Misty flopped back dramatically over her feet on the end of the bed. 

 

“I mean, I guess I have no choice but to be patient,” The younger witch rolled onto her side, snaking a hand up over her shirt with a dramatic sigh as her hair was laid out around her. She let her fingers pull at her top before giving another loud huff and sitting up, with a mumbled, “It is awful warm,” drawing the fabric over her head. 

 

Cordelia placed her breakfast on the nightstand next to her, giggling as she pulled the computer into her lap, “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“Just needy,” The blonde whined, crawling up next to Cordelia, pressing her bare stomach against the woman’s uncovered arm, making her breath catch in her throat.

 

“One minute, sweetheart,” The Supreme insisted, forcing her eyes to remain on the screen as she pulled up her mail app and sifted through the bullshit spam and Amazon’s half-dozen deals of the day. She was at the second-to-last new message, about to close the lid and place the computer down when she felt her heart drop unexpectedly. “Shit,” She mumbled raising the hand that Misty was trying to take to cover her breast with and running it over her face.

 

“What?” Misty questioned, turning her focus seriously to the message. Cordelia scanned it before watching Misty react as her eyes locked onto the words.  
  
FROM: ORLEANS PARISH CRIMINAL COURT

SUBJECT: ! URGENT ! Court Date  


Ms. CORDELIA GOODE:  
  
This is a courtesy message informing you that you and your partner, Ms. MISTY DAY will be receiving a call from ORLEAN’S PARISH CRIMINAL COURT on WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8 which will cover details from CASE #397623 - DOBSON COMPOUNDS. It is advised that you prepare yourself and your loved one for a court appearance on THURSDAY, JUNE 9 at 10:00AM at the DOWNTOWN COURTHOUSE. Attached is information pertaining to what to expect at the appearance.

 

Regards,  
ORLEANS PARISH D.A.  
  
Misty sat up and pulled her top back on, her mood lost, and sense of nerves having been placed. “Shit,” She repeated after Cordelia, who opened the attachment, which was a standard letter containing what to except as a witness in a criminal investigation. She let the information pass her by, but ultimately decided that they’d learn more when they received a call from the district attorney that’d been working with them throughout the case. 

 

 She leaned over and put the computer on the floor, then turned to face her girlfriend, who was trembling beside her.

 

“Misty,” She started, taking a centering breath before reaching her hand to cup the woman’s face. “You are absolutely fine. I am here, I will be with you — nothing bad is going to happen.”

 

“I knew that there was somethin’ worth being worked up about today,” Misty muttered, feeling sick to her stomach before slinking down to place her head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “I’d just hoped it was over you.”

 

Cordelia tried to alter her mood back. She shifted so the comforter was down at their feet, then lifted a leg and twisted so she was straddling Misty’s waist. Placing her hands at the girl’s shoulders, she slowly brought them down, over her breasts, until they settled over her abdomen. Pressing her lips to Misty’s, she closed her eyes and gave a tiny moan in the back of her throat when she felt her girlfriend respond after a long moment. Misty’s palms came to Cordelia’s shoulder’s and she pulled back, her eyes half-open.   
  
“Just because we’ve got some news about the case doesn’t mean I can’t let you get worked up over me,” The Supreme grinned into a kiss. “I know that it’s a very delicate situation, but this means we’re one step closer to having it be over. In the mean time, we aren’t going to let it take over our lives. You have control of that, remember?”

 

Misty nodded, still holding Cordelia’s shoulders. She refused to cry over the impending call about their appearance the following day. “I won’t let them control me,” She breathed.   
  
“Good,” The older woman pecked her mouth again. “Because you said something about making me yours? And I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

 

Misty bit her bottom lip to try and keep from smiling. She increased the grip she had on Cordelia by drawing one leg up over her hip and rolling her to the side then onto her back. Misty, now on top found her mischievous giggle once again before sighing and forcing herself to relax.   
  
X

  
Cordelia finished running a flat iron through her hair, keeping her eyes on Misty in the bathroom mirror above the counter. The younger witch was making faces at her from the tub, her hair a mess of curls and feathers that had been flattened and sweat-stricken from well over an hour and a half of intimacy. “You need to stop being so damn cute,” The Supreme insisted, turning the power off and unplugging the straightener, tying up the cord and setting into it’s proper shelf in the cupboard next to the shower. Misty laughed and floated down in the now-cold water that had no bubbles left. Cordelia had already managed to bring herself out of the tub, dressed, and presentable for the day. “You’re getting all pruney in there.”   
  
“Aww, fine,” She smirked and stood as the older witch turned on the shower. 

 

“You’re cute, but you’re a mess,” Cordelia teased, pecking her wet lips. “Go wash your hair, love.”

 

“You’re bein’ a bully,” The younger one insisted with a sparkle in her eyes. “But I still like you. I think you’re using concilium on me.”

 

Wiggling her brows, the witch smoothed her dress before leaving the bathroom to Misty so she could focus on getting herself cleaned up. Sighing, and not particularly wanting to be alone, the younger woman hurried through an actual shower, washing off traces of sex and covering up evidence of their foreplay with a few healing touches to the bruises Cordelia’s teeth had left on her chest.   
  
Finishing, she dried off and wrapped the towel around herself, letting her hair drip-dry on her shoulders as she moved to the walk-in closet, ruffling through Cordelia’s clothes, knowing she’d need something more presentable than her usual garb to wear to greet their lawyer and the district attorney later in the day.   
  
Hearing the door to the bedroom click back open and Cordelia’s voice through the wall, she stiffened as she listened.   
  
“Yes, Mr. Martins. We’ll be there at noon. Thank you — yes, of course. Good-bye.”

 

The Supreme entered the closet, her iPhone clutched in her grip and a sad smile on her face as Misty ruffled through the rows of polyester and pretended not to be as tense as she was. “AmI goin’ font of a judge today?” She wondered.

 

“No, just a meeting and walk-through with the DA,” Cordelia sighed, a hand on the back of her neck. “You could probably get away with one of your own outfits, if you’d be more comfortable.”

 

Misty touched a three-quarter sleeved button-down top, pouting at the thought of putting it on. “Lord only knows how much time we might be spendin’ in trial this summer. I aught’a get used to it.”

 

“Well, if you insist — how about...” She bit her lip and brushed by her girlfriend, picking out a simple, black cotton dress with a thin grey belt around the middle. Holding it up to Misty, she nodded. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  
They were at the courthouse by the time Cordelia assured the DA they would be. He met them with a thick case file, inviting the two into a conference room. Misty sat up straight, trying to appear far less nervous than she felt.   
  
“We’re in really good hands with this case,” The balding, middle-aged man started. “Unfortunately, it’s high-profile, and becoming more so by the second. Thankfully, we’ve got more evidence than any case I’ve ever worked, along with testimony from over fifty of the women and girls that are willing to speak out.” 

 

“So what’s the problem?” Cordelia wondered, grasping Misty’s hand under the table.

 

“I’m going to be seeking the death penalty, for Stan and John.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Ms. Day, your testimony for your childhood abuse and trauma, unfortunately, will not help in us making the case. While you can talk about what happened, and it will help prove a pattern for the bastards, the statute of limitations has run out on your case. What would really stick, would be your testimony about what they did to you last year.”

 

Misty’s brow furrowed. “I already said I wasn’t willing to talk about that.”  
  
“It’s _that_ testimony that is going to get us the death penalty in the bag,” The man pleaded. “I’m sure it’s uncomfortable to talk about, but—”

 

Her temper flared and Misty shoved her chair back, storming out of the room. Cordelia opened her mouth to say something nasty, but bit her tongue, counting to ten before following the witch out.  
  
Misty was already outside, her elbows on her knees as she sat on the steps of the courthouse. Cordelia plopped gracefully down next to her. “I’m sorry, if I’d have known that’s what he was going to talk about, I would have told him to shove it over the phone.”

 

The taller slumped, feeling useless. “My testimony won’t count.” She shivered a breath. “It’s like...it’s like it never happened, according to the law. Nothing that I say tomorrow or the coming days is actually going to matter. It won’t be what puts these fuckers away.”

 

Cordelia put a hand on Misty’s back and she leaned into her, not caring one bit that they were in a very public part of downtown New Orleans and that there was a reporter just at the base of the steps, fishing for his camera. “One of the articles I read said that healing begins when you bear witness. Even if your past isn’t what gets these guys, you get to be in charge of it. You get to tell your story. Not some balding men in a hundred dollar suit telling it for you. And it helps to prove a pattern — those _fuckers_ are not getting away with it.”   
  
Misty smiled at Cordelia’s foul language before turning the corners of her mouth down again whispering, “But if I talk about bein’ burned, I’ll get to be the one to send ‘em to hell.”

 

Cordelia shrugged. “Ultimately, that’s where they’re going to end up either way. You already brought them in. Now you have the power to decide which parts of your story you tell. I can’t make the decision for you, nor will I sway you either way. I will support whatever it is you’d like to tell the jury.   
  
Nodding, the younger witch felt a shiver up her back. “If I talk about dyin’, the defense is going to demand a demonstration’a how I can bring back the dead. Is that something we really want?”

 

“It’s not a broadcast case,” Cordelia rubbed Misty’s back. “And I can always use concilium to ensure that no one is capable of talking about that part of the trial outside of the courtroom. I don’t want you hounded by people with dying or dead loved ones. You aren’t a human defibrillator. I won’t stand for that.”

 

Misty pressed her lips together. “Can you tell the DA that I need a few minutes?” She wondered. “I’m gonna think ‘bout it.”  
  
“Of course,” Cordelia pressed a kiss to the top of Misty’s head, squeezing her shoulder before rising to speak with the district attorney.   
  
The witch pressed a palm against the smooth marble of the steps, closing her eyes and considering what had to be done in order for her to feel real peace. 

 

X  
  
Cordelia had spent nearly an hour blow-drying and straightening Misty’s hair the night before. The younger witch had made the request shortly after dinner, saying, “I don’t want the jury to see me like the rest of the women from the compound. Not that I think I’m better than them — but they still believe the same things and want to live a life devoted to serving a man. I’m not that person.”

 

The Supreme had suggested a mini-one-day-makeover and found her sassiest black blazer and sharpest dress pants, then tamed the woman’s curly hair with every ounce of styling skill she’d inherited from Fiona.   
  
“I’d like you to wear this, too,” Cordelia said as Misty stared at her reflection after the older witch had applied her makeup, finding herself looking radiant with less black smudged around her eyes than usual. She snapped her head towards Cordelia’s hands, feeling herself get a little emotional when she spotted a thin, golden band in her girlfriend’s palm. Cordelia looked nervous as she explained, “It’s not...it’s not an engagement ring, or...you know, but, um...” She was flushed and Misty took the hand that was not outstretched with the ring to squeeze. “More like a promise ring, but not even that, it’s—”

 

“It’s perfect,” Misty pressed her lips together as the witch laughed her nerves out and knelt down in front of her, sliding the ring onto the finger where an engagement ring would go if it were one.   
  
“When you’re nervous up there, and playing with your hands,” She said with a little chuckle, kissing the woman’s knuckles, “Maybe it’ll ease you a bit to know that I’m with you. I love you, Misty. You’re going to do absolutely fine. I’ll be right there, in the front row. Look at me any time you need my eyes — know that I’m encouraging you and believing every word you say.”

 

Misty closed her eyes, not wanting to cry off the makeup. “Thank you,” She mouthed, accepting a full kiss. “I better get dressed.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, the witch was walking down the steps to leave the academy, Queenie and Zoe standing with mouths agape next to their leader at the door. “Hot damn, Misty Day!” The larger of the three cheered. “Shit, if I knew you cleaned up like that, I might’a gone gay myself!”

 

Misty flushed, “Thanks, I think?” She looked stunning in the suit, hair straight, falling to her breasts. She hooked a hand around Cordelia’s upper arm. “Why’re we leavin’ so early?”

 

“I’ve got a little surprise at the courthouse for you,” The Supreme smiled and kissed the side of her head, quietly asking, “You sure you want Queenie and Zoe to come? They’ve said they’ll stay back without question if you changed your mind.”

 

“Nah,” Misty breathed. “They aught’a know. ‘Sides if we went to gumbo after without Queenie I think she might use her voodoo on us.”

 

“Damn straight,” Queenie laughed, rubbing Misty’s back. “You’ll be fine, hot stuff. C’mon, I’m excited for the surprise.”

 

“I don’t know I can handle much more for surprises,” She muttered honestly as Cordelia led them out the front door — their Coven all dressed in their standard color scheme.   
  
Cordelia let Zoe drive the Beamer downtown so she could sit in the back, clutching Misty close the ride over. The two younger members of her council talked about this and that up front while the lovers in the back sat quietly, Misty soaking up Cordelia’s presence as much as possible.   
  
Arriving at the valet, the four stepped out of the fancy car, avoiding the camera lenses by a wave of Cordelia’s hand, forcing the attention away from them. She led them inside and to the private room they’d been given to wait in that was usually reserved for families. 

 

A short presence was in the back of the room and Misty felt an excited and nervous tickle roll through her when she recognized it immediately. “Stevie?”   
  
The white witch turned, all smiles, and sauntered to the much taller witch with nothing but a supportive gaze. She reached her hands up and gingerly touched the younger woman’s face, “Cordelia called me to ask if I’d be here to support you today. I told her, it would be my highest honor.”

 

Forcing her lower lip to keep from quivering, Misty let herself be led by Cordelia to a bench, where she sat with watery eyes that were locked on her idol. “I won’t ever be able to thank you enough, I can’t imagine you takin’ time away from your tour to come listen to me cry on the witness stand ‘bout my darkest days, but—”

 

Stevie clutched her hands. “Misty, after all you’ve been through, and I really don’t know all the details, but...Taking a flight from London to be here hardly seems enough. This may be one of the more challenging days of your life, but I am sure you will make it through, stronger than ever.” She reached under her hair, unclasping a silver strand of a necklace that contained a pendant with one of her famous half-moons. “A waxing crescent moon is a symbol of change. We look forward to things turning around at this point in the lunar cycle. I think that you’ll find, after delivering testimony against these piggish excuses for men, you’ll find things turning around for you, too. Please, wear this in that spirit.”

 

Misty felt herself grinning uncontrollably as Stevie passed the necklace to Cordelia, who hooked it around Misty’s neck, kissing the back of her head as it clasped.   
  
She reached her left hand up to cover the moon, looking down to see light reflect off the ring on her finger. She could have sobbed a thousand happy tears but instead decided to lean over and give Stevie and Cordelia each a kiss on their cheeks in thanks.

 

X  
  
Misty settled into the seat on the witness stand, the district attorney handling the case giving her a firm nod. “Miss Day, thank you for your willingness to share your story with members of the jury. Your testimony will hopefully shed some light on the history and other cruel deeds of the defendants.” She nodded, eyes locked on Cordelia and Stevie, who sat side by side in the front row behind the prosecutor. Her throat felt thick and her heart was thumping in her ears, but she was ready to say what needed to be said. 

 

“Miss Day, you originally lived in the Northern Compound, under the leadership of preacher John Bradshaw, correct?”   
  
“Yes,” She affirmed, already feeling the urge to twist the ring on her finger. “I was born there to Hanna and Roman Day on July thirty-first, nineteen eighty-nine. I lived there, in the custody of my parents, until August of nineteen ninety-six.” She spoke as she’d been coached to, feeling at ease knowing that there would be no surprise questions thrown at her until the defense had a turn to rip into her after a lunch recess.   
  
“Miss Day, tell the jury about the first time that John Bradshaw was sexually inappropriate with you.”

 

She swallowed the ball of emotion at the back of her throat, no longer able to look out over the audience, even to Cordelia. She felt shame rising in the form of a full-body flush as her mind took her back to the place of some of her worst nightmares.

 

_“Mama, do I have to go now? You promised you would take me down to Betty’s so we could make preserves tonight!” Seven-year-old Misty pouted, crossing her arms over a long-sleeved, simple navy dress that buttoned from her neck to her ankles._

 

_“I never make promises,” Hanna smiled, kissing her daughter’s forehead. “‘Sides, you’s about to be confirmed in the Lord tomorra! If Preacher John say you go to his house for one more lesson, ya go. Now shoo, off with ya. I’ll be here to tuck ya’in.”_

 

_Scuffing a brown boot against the floorboards, she shrugged and took off down the dusty path that led to John’s large house that he shared with four wives and too many children for Misty to keep track of. Skipping up the steps, she knocked on the door, rocking on her toes as she waited to be let in._

 

_One of the older daughters answered, a wicked smirk on her face. “What’s that look for?” Misty questioned as she was let in._

 

_“Oh, you’ll see,” The teenager laughed, steering Misty to the sofa. “Papa! Misty’s here!”_

 

_She hugged her knees to her chest as she waited for the preacher to show up, a feeling settling into her gut as she prayed to the Lord above that she wasn’t getting a whipping.  
  
Mumbling the words aloud, the daughter of the preacher shook her head, her dirty braid flying from her back to her shoulder as she did so. “Trust me, Misty Day, you ain’t gettin’ no whippin. Though you’ll be wishin you was.”_

 

_John stepped into the room, a yellow-toothed smile. “Miss Misty Day. Welcome, darling. Come with me, now. We’re going to make sure you’re ready for the Lord tomorrow.”_

 

_Feeling uncomfortable, Misty nodded. “I’m ready, Preacher John, I swear it. I been prayin’ and workin’ hard for the Lord. He knows I’m ready to be confirmed in him.”_

 

_He extended a hand and Misty frowned, taking it. “Let’s be sure then. Come on, let’s step into my office.”_

 

_He closed the door behind them and Misty felt herself trembling. “Alright, Misty. Let’s make sure you’re pure and clean for the Lord. Go on, now, take off your dress.”_

 

_Shaking her head, Misty blinked away tears. “I don’t want to, sir. A-adam and Eve didn’t wanna stand naked ‘fore God, neither do I.”_

 

_“Adam and Eve didn’t have a preacher who knew better.” He knelt before her and she could feel his hot breath on her face. “Take off your dress, Misty Day.”_

 

_Letting out a whimper, she undid the buttons, dropping the fabric to the floor, frowning deeply. John reached for the waistband of her long britches and she shrieked, “Please, no! I don’t want to be naked ‘fore God! It ain’t right!”  
  
“You can’t be confirmed unless you are proven clean and pure. Reach out your hands. Stand straight and still, like our Lord and Savior, on the cross. Go on. Nice and straight. That’s good, Misty.”_

 

_He pulled down the remainder of her clothes and Misty let out a loud cry. He shushed her with a finger to her lips and stretched her arms out wide again. “Keep them up. The Lord hung on the cross for hours. Surely, you can stand a few moments.”_

 

_“Please, don’t — God, he don’t want this. I know he don’t.”_

 

_“You have no idea what God wants, Misty Day. You’re just a child.” He kissed the top of her curly hair and she cried again as he touched her naked waist. “I have to check to make sure you’re pure, Misty.”_

 

Misty cleared her throat and explained, “He put his fingers inside me, that first time. After that, he’d make me come to him about once a week. Sometimes in the church, at the alter. There, he’d usually stick something inside me. Sometimes a cross,” She stared hard at her lap again, she hadn’t even confessed that to Cordelia. “When the deacon, Paul, joined us, he said that God wanted me to welcome him to the compound.”   
  
_She felt John lift her by the hair and shove her in front of Paul’s pants, where she sobbed and screamed. Eventually, he guided her fingers to unzip the deacon’s drawers, showing seven-year-old Misty day something she had no business seeing._

 

“They forced me to use my hands and mouth on him.”

 

“How old were you at the time?” The DA questioned her.

 

Misty looked up at the ceiling. “I was still seven. It continued for a year. When I was eight, I couldn’t take it one more day. I spoke out against John during church, in front of the compound. According to my mother, years later, it turned out they were going to kill me with stones. She had me sent down to the Southern compound to live with my Aunt Poppy and Uncle Sam. My mother, Hanna Day, knew that I’d likely be sexually abused in the South as well, but hoped they’d at least keep me alive.”

 

“Were you sexually abused in the South as well?”   
  
Nodding, Misty remembered she had to speak for the transcription. “Yes. Preacher Stan raped me consistently, every Saturday night until I was ten years old.”

 

“Were you kept alive?”

 

She bit her lip, knowing this would be the dramatic turn that the defense was going to lose their minds at. “No, I was not.”

 

There was a loud outcry among the gathered crowd and the judge tapped her gavel.   
  
“I will have order in my courtroom!”

 

The district attorney turned to the jury. “It is public record that Misty Day is a member of the Coven of witches that resides here in New Orleans at Miss Robichaux's Academy. I will resume my line of questioning. Misty Day, what age were you kept alive until?”

 

“I left the compound on sabbatical at age seventeen. I lived in a swamp near the compound. I visited three times yearly for the spiritual revivals. Despite what they’d done to me, at the time, I still had faith. I also had growing powers of resurgence and knew that whatever that meant, whatever I was, I had to keep that power quiet.”

 

“Can you describe resurgence to the jury?”

 

She sighed, knowing it was unlikely that any of them would believe her without a demonstration. “I can bring dead things back to life, in simplest explanation.”   
  
“Did you ever demonstrate any of these powers at a revival?”

 

“Yes,” Misty nodded. “In March of 2013, I foolishly brought a bird who’d just been lost to the brink, back, and let him free. I was seen doing so, and that night, John and Stan dragged me from my Aunt Poppy’s house and brought me out to a field behind the compound. They covered my body in gasoline and lit me on fire, burning me at the stake like it was Salem. It’s public record that a young female named Misty Day was burned alive. My body was initially found by police. I believe between that time, my body was taken back by Stan and John and tossed into the swamp where I’d been living. Thankfully, I was able to bring myself back using my powers, which is how I stand before you today.”

 

The judge tapped her gavel again. “Miss Day, I thank you for your extensive testimony. We’ll resume with the defense’s cross-examination after an hour of recess.”

 

She felt ill as she hastily stood and met Cordelia in a hug, whispering, “Do I look like a damn fool up there?”

 

“No,” The Supreme whispered, kissing her forehead as Stevie put a comforting hand between her shoulder blades. “You did amazingly well.”

 

Stevie, Zoe, and Queenie looked sick to their stomachs — none of them knowing quite what to say after hearing what the woman’s past had been like.   
  
“I ain’t gonna be able to eat,” She nodded at Cordelia, then looked at Stevie. “Think we can just go sit out in the sun or somethin’?”

 

“Of course,” Cordelia clapped her hand around the woman’s arm and led them out the door and to the gardens behind the courthouse, where she’d already arranged a private lunch. Her girlfriend opted to take a few sips of water, but simply sat and stared off into space as the rest of the witches ate.   
  
The DA came to congratulate her on making it through the morning, warning Misty that the afternoon was going to be rough. “You’re ready for it?”

 

“I’m ready for it to be over,” She confirmed. “Get on with my life.”

 

She got on with it within fifty minutes, as she was back at the witness stand. A sleeze-bag of a defense attorney dug right into the root of the biggest flaw in her testimony. “I’m very curious about these powers of yours, Miss Day. I’m sure the jury is too. I find it very difficult to believe that my clients can be involved in murder charges, when the deceased is giving testimony about her murder. That’s never been the case, I don’t believe, in the history of the judicial system.”

 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Misty snapped, a sudden shift in her demeanor as a doubter stood before her.

 

“Is there a question here?” The DA fired from behind them and the judge eyed the attorney, who moved on.

 

“I’d like a demonstration of your powers, Miss Day. So that the jury and I can fully understand what resurgence looks like.”   
  
“That ain’t up to me,” She let slip, feeling like a fool for using her cajun accent. “What I mean to say is, the Supreme — leader of my Coven, would have to give me permission to demonstrate that in front of you.”

 

Misty made hard eye-contact with Cordelia, who gave a subtle nod, knowing what she needed to do when she was addressed.

 

“Miss Cordelia Goode, please rise,” The greasy-haired man commanded and she obliged, one hand poised out.

 

“I give Misty Day permission to perform resurgence before you. None of you will ever tell a soul of this that exists outside of this courtroom today.” 

 

She sat back down and no one was the wiser that she’d just used magic on them. Misty had to bite back a smile as a bailiff brought out a clearly dead bird, making Misty frown. “Poor baby,” She muttered, waving it over. Sighing and closing her eyes, she cupped the Bird between her hands, focusing on her breath before suddenly, the winged creature flew up and into the courthouse ceiling, and Misty Day was on the floor.

 

X

 

Waking up in a familiar comforter, Misty rubbed her head, blinking at the sight of Cordelia and Stevie laughing together in the chairs before the fire in her bedroom, each with a glass of wine in their hands. Looking down and noting she was in only a tank top, she figured court must have adjourned after her demonstration.

 

“Hey,” Cordelia stood, putting her glass down and greeting her girlfriend as she sat at the edge of their mattress, kissing her puffy pink lips. “The defense had no further questions. You’re done. There’s about eight more days of testimony from the other women at the compound — the jury will deliberate on the fifteenth. We’ll hear the results then.”

 

Nodding, the witch stood, not having much to say, stepping into their closet and shedding her dress pants, coming out in a short black skirt. Stevie had moved to the small love seat and had an arm open, which Misty happily sank into. “You look like myself at your age, you know that?”

 

She flushed — not sure if she could handle being compared to Stevie. Meeting Cordelia’s sparkling brown eyes she noted the wine glass in her girlfriend’s hand, not much of a wine drinker, but feeling like she needed _something_ to dull out the day.   
  
“You are a strong, courageous woman, who has endured more in your twenty-five years than most do in a lifetime,” Stevie continued, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m very proud of your ability to give that testimony. I don’t think I’d have been half as strong as you were up there today.”

 

Soaking up the praise, Misty pulled slightly out of the embrace, confessing, “I never heard your music ‘til the day I was sent down South. The man who drove me to Stan’s compound stopped at a gas station and sent me in to get something to eat. _Go Your Own Way_ was playing, and I asked the clerk about it. He looked at me like I’d grown another head when I asked who Stevie Nicks was. The driver had a Bella Donna tape in his car, and we listened to it the rest of the drive.” Stevie smiled sadly as Misty continued, “The only song I really remembered any of the words or tune to was _After the Glitter Fades_. When Stan used to leave me on Saturday nights, I’d sing it to myself ‘til I felt better. You’ve always been there for me, Stevie. It means so much that you came today.”

 

Unable to help herself, Stevie hugged Misty once more. “Of course, sweetheart. ‘Delia’s got my number, if you _ever_ need me, for anything.” She kissed her temple and sang softly under her breath into Misty’s ear, “ _For me... it's the only life...That I've ever know, and love is only one fine star away. Even though the living is sometimes laced with lies...It's alright...The feeling remains even after the glitter fades._ ”   
  
Misty wiped at the corner of her lashes and sniffed as she pulled away. “Thank you, Stevie.”   
  
“You’re welcome, baby doll. I’ve got to get going — my flight leaves in an hour; I’ve got to get back to the UK for tomorrow.”

 

Understanding, Misty reached at the clasp of the crescent moon necklace but Stevie shook her head, “Keep it.”  
  
Cordelia saw Stevie out after one last good-bye hug and Misty laid back on the love seat, pulling a hand over her eyes as she considered going back to sleep and forgetting the day ever happened. A glint from the fire caught a sparkle on her finger and she propped herself back up on an elbow, unable to stop a small smile at the sight of Cordelia’s ring.   
  
The Supreme rejoined her, crouching before her and kissing the tip of her nose. “There’s dinner downstairs if you’re hungry?”

 

“‘M not, ‘Delia. No offense.”

 

“None taken,” She sighed, stroking Misty’s still-silky hair. “But you haven’t eaten all day.”

 

“My insides are still too jittery. Think I could get some of that purple anxiety potion? I don’t want to be knocked out like that one you gave me after we caught the bastards, but I can’t settle my heart down.”  
  
Cordelia padded to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, retrieving the potion and reminding Misty, “Just half.”

 

She downed the allotted amount, taking a heavy breath afterwords. “That one don’t taste like death.”

 

The Supreme was behind her, leaning down to wrap her arms over Misty’s chest. The younger witch brought her hands up to clutch at her forearms, her head resting backwards, leaving space for Cordelia to kiss her neck. “The girls asked if we could have a fire tonight, outside. The weather’s perfect for it, if you want to join them. Queenie and Zoe are out there now, I said I’d be wherever you wanted to go.”

 

“If you keep kissin’ my neck, I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” The witch responded when Cordelia’s mouth found her pulse point again and she groaned. “Let’s at least make an appearance. They’re gonna start thinkin’ I’m a shut-in. Then we should come up and let me get kissin’ on _your_ neck.”

 

Cordelia grinned and released her grip on the younger woman, taking her wine glass and nodding to the door, “Let’s go put in our face time, then,” She insisted.

 

X  
  
Misty’s hair was curly and adorned with feathers again the next day, a Friday — which meant Cordelia was up early in her study, feverishly working on paperwork. The younger witch arrived and plopped sideways into a chair, dressed in an outfit that was very much _her_ — an off-white linen skirt with a black tank top tucked into a wide black belt and a cream colored shawl draped over her shoulders. Cordelia flushed at the sight of her at the memory of what she’d done the night before.   
  
“I can’t believe you managed to pull yourself outta bed to that alarm after a night like we had,” Misty teased.   
  
“As much as I’d like to lay about in sex-soaked bliss all day,” Cordelia smirked, “I’m not my mother.” Frowning suddenly at the statement, she eyed Misty. “And we are going to whip something up in the greenhouse in about twenty minutes.”

 

“Oh, we are?” Her girlfriend wondered. “Baby-makin’ potion?”   
  
Cordelia’s chest heated up, “As much as I’d enjoy that someday, no, this is something for you.”

 

“Hm,” Misty shrugged. “Faster fingers?”   
  
“ _No_ ,” Cordelia’s face matched the rest of her blush, “Yours are perfect just the way they are, in case you couldn’t tell. But hopefully, what I’m about to have us brew will help you put the past away.”

 

The younger of the two sat up, eyeing her partner. “Thought you said memory potions were dangerous?”

 

“It’s not to forget,” the Supreme clarified, signing her name across the bottom of a piece of paper. “It’s just to ease the memory; make it less vivid.”

 

“I could be on board for that,” Misty agreed, standing up and pacing the room. “Anything I can do to get us closer to makin’ it?”

 

“You could go start boiling water — three vats. And chopping wormwood, finely. I’ll be down as soon as I’m done. And did you feed your animals?”

 

“‘Course I did. Though the humane society’ll be here for ‘em in two hours. I’m gonna miss those stinky pups. You sure you don’t want a dog?”

 

Cordelia stacked several pieces of paper, her brows raised, “Quite.”

 

Misty faux pouted as he transported herself to the greenhouse, following Cordelia’s directions and waiting for more as she spun on a stool at the counter.

 

The Supreme arrived in a black skirt and top, ready to get straight to work. “Where’s your music?”

 

Lifting her shoulders in a shrug, Misty sighed. “Kinda just wanted quiet, actually. Your voice is all I really wanna hear right now.”

 

“You’re sweet,” The leader smiled into a kiss. “I had this idea last night — basically, this potion will allow you to target specific memories and dull them. I don’t think it’s good for you to forget what’s happened to you, but I think that not reliving it would certainly be a good thing.”

 

Misty agreed whole-heartedly, tossing her arms around Cordelia and holding her close for a long minute. “It’ll help more than you know.”

 

“Well, it’s going to need to brew for about eleven days, given my calculations. It should be done by the end of deliberations. Then, it’ll really all be over.”

 

Kissing her softly, Misty took a deep breath. “I can’t wait to move on.”

 

“I can’t wait to be with you as you do,” Cordelia agreed. 

 

X

 

Misty’s hair was straight again as she sat in one of Cordelia’s lacy, black tops and floor-length cream skirts. She clutched the other woman’s hand with a sweaty palm as the jury rose. “...We have your honor.”

 

“We’ll start with Defendant John Bradshaw. On the multiple charges of sexual assault, how do you find the defendant?”   
  
“Guilty, your honor.”

 

“On the charges of sexually assaulting a child, how do you find the defendant?”

 

“Guilty, your honor.”

 

“On the charges of child abuse and neglect, how do you find the defendant?”

 

“Guilty, your honor.”

 

“On the charges of wrongful imprisonment of a minor, how do you find the defendant?”

 

“Guilty, your honor.”   
  
“On the charges of wrongful imprisonment of an adult, how do you find the defendant?”

 

“Guilty, your honor.”

 

“On the charge of first degree murder, how do you find the defendant?”

 

“Guilty, your honor.”

 

Misty finally opened her eyes as the exact same charges were read and filed against Stan and a gavel snapped her out of her daze.   
  
“A sentencing hearing will be held in August. Case closed, court dismissed.”

 


	8. Chapter Eight

Misty was glowing when Cordelia pulled up to the closest road that would lead them to her shack in the swamp. Her hair was pulled back into a long pony tail that whipped around her shoulders when she slammed the door shut and moved to the trunk, yanking out her backpack and Cordelia’s Burberry travel bag. The Supreme locked up, already feeling the humidity at the base of her neck. 

 

Misty almost set her partner’s luggage on the dirt floor of the earth as she reached in for one last item when the older witch squeaked and took the bag from her. “I’m sorry,” Cordelia pressed a hand over her heart, taking a deep breath. “That was a very Fiona Goode reaction. It’s just too nice to go on the ground.”

 

The younger witch scoffed playfully. “It’s made from leather, and cows _do_ walk the earth.”

 

Pouting, Cordelia squeezed the bag before closing the trunk and pulling the long strap over her shoulder. “It’s a nice bag, though.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, miss classy,” Misty nuzzled her nose into her girlfriend’s cheek, ending the affectionate gesture with a kiss at the corner of her mouth. “I’m just teasin’ you. If you want a twelve hundred dollar bag to take to the swamp, fine by me.”

 

“Good,” The Supreme stuck her tongue out and Misty made a biting sound with her teeth, giving a mock growl before sliding her arms around Cordelia’s waist and kissing her shoulder, moaning at the contact. “Mist...” 

 

Chuckling, the younger woman sighed and adjusted her own backpack strap, taking Cordelia’s hand. “We gotta move quick. I’m ‘bout to jump outta my skin with want for ya.” 

 

Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice as Misty led the way to her shack — where they planned to spend three days enjoying nothing but sex and magic. There was a humming of cicadas and chirping of birds that the Supreme knew would be difficult to ignore the first night — not that she was planning on doing much sleeping with her insatiable girlfriend clawing at her the way she had been all week. The phrase _cat in heat_ came to mind when she’d first told Misty to check and see if any repairs needed to be made to her shack when she’d gone out the Friday before for mud. 

 

_“Three days, just you and me, alone in the shack?” She’d practically ripped her clothes off her before a morning gathering. “Can you imagine anything better?”_

 

Cordelia could, truthfully — perhaps a lavish hotel suite with an air conditioning unit; but the trip was for Misty. She needed a getaway after four months that had been nothing but chaos and living in memories she’d wanted to forget. Once the verdict was in and all that remained was to see if the judge was going to commit the bastards for life or send them to the needle, she’d felt immediate relief. Cordelia wanted her to feel relief in other ways, too — where and how she felt most comfortable. 

 

Misty had been literally skipping around the academy, talking up their weekend to any of the girls that were still in New Orleans that would listen. Describing the sights and smells — warning Cordelia repeatedly “ _don’t try and make friends with the ‘gators, but let ‘em warm up to you_.” She wasn’t too thrilled about three days in reptile land, but Misty’s excitement was more than worth suffering through a few sticky nights. 

 

Knowing the way without even pausing to check her markings, Misty held Cordelia’s hand as they came to a make-shift tree-bridge. “Watch your step, sweetie,” She warned, walking across with a wide smile before Cordelia elected to use transmutation to be on the other side of a brooke. “Cheater,” She giggled and the Supreme tucked her hands behind her back as they wound through trees and up a slightly-worn path in a Louisiana forest. It was a true wonder the witch hunters had ever found her.

 

“‘Bout another quarter mile, then we’re...” She paused her walk, turning to Cordelia to put a palm against her waist. “You know, I was gonna say home, but it ain’t home anymore.”

 

Thinking she was sad about it, the older witch drew her close and placed a ginger kiss against herlips. “I’m sorry. If you ever want to come here for an extended time, I’d understa—”

 

“No, no,” She hooked an arm around Cordelia’s neck. “Home is the academy. It’s the Coven. It’s you, darlin’.”

 

Pressing her warm forehead to the other woman’s, Cordelia squeezed her hip before they walked that last stretch to the edge of a moss-laden swamp. Thankfully, the odor wasn’t quite as awful as the Supreme had anticipated it would be. 

 

Misty was all but jumping as the dock with her humble former home came into view. “There it is, this is it, ‘Delia. Oh my goodness I’ve got gooseflesh — I’m so ‘xcited to have you here with me.”

 

She tugged her arm and the two were at the front of the shack. Misty fumbled through her bangles until she found one that had a small, brass key attached. Sliding it off her wrist, she turned the knob, revealing a simple home that was as Misty Day as anything Cordelia had ever seen. Misty stepped in, breathless as she soaked up having her lover in her favorite place for the first time. 

 

Cordelia’s eyes scanned the single room; noting the ‘70s were screaming at her furiously with the decor. Lace curtains covered half-broken blinds, a patterned, oversized arm chair was in the middle, and a little wood stove stood proudly to the side. In the corner was a full size mattress in a metal frame, with a nightstand next to it that was bare, save for a lamp. 

 

“I know it ain’t much, but,” Misty bit her lip as Cordelia wandered in a little further, investigating the Fleetwood Mac posters on the walls and candle holders that littered the floor. A stack of books was in the corner that contained works on Fleetwood Mac, botany, alligators, witchcraft, and a few paperback novels that looked extremely well-loved, sitting on top of a Bible. Papers and colored pencils were stored in a basket. On a wooden shelf behind the door was a series of baskets that held beads, wire, feathers, shells, and a few simple, old tools. Rope and string of every kind were poking out of a burlap bag and a few kitcheny tools were at the top, resting neatly on a towel. Mason jars of homemade products and preserves were stored at the bottom, each labeled as to what was in them. 

 

“Misty, this place is _amazing_ ,” Cordelia was nearly speechless as she finished taking in her surroundings for the first time. “You did this all yourself?”

 

She shrugged. “The big furniture was already here. The man who had dropped me off at Stan’s compound? Well, when I was leavin’ there, he drove me out and introduced me to his brother, who owned this place. Gave it to me sayin’ so long as someone’s puttin’ it to use, he was happy. The land’s government property now, I guess, since nobody’s been payin’ taxes on it, but I don’t really think they know or give a shit that I’ve been livin’ here for what, over six years? I’d harvest up what I could ‘bout once a month and take it to the farmer’s market that’s just on the other side of the road we parked on. Usually make two hundred dollars, actually. I’d sell out in minutes. People start to realize I came on the last Saturday of the month and there’d be a line for my stall before I even got in. “Take my profit to the thrift shop and stock up. I grew most of my own food,‘cept for grains that I’d pick up at the market, too. It kinda all worked out nice for me.”

 

Cordelia nodded and noted a water filtration system in the other corner. Misty caught her eye line and made a quick buzz for the swamp, loading up her watering can and dumping it in the top half of the device. “I promise you, it takes all the shit out, I changed the filter when I was here last week. This is one of them that charities donate to schools in Africa. If it keeps out malaria, you’re safe.”

 

“I didn’t doubt I would be.” She smiled and hugged Misty from behind after setting her bag in the velvet armchair. The younger witch groaned and leaned back into the embrace, bringing an arm to reach behind Cordelia’s shoulders. “You hungry?”   
  
“Only for you,” Misty whispered, her mouth tilted to cover Cordelia’s before she twisted her body around, moaning as she slipped her tongue into her mouth. 

 

The Supreme undid Misty’s hair tie and took a fistful of curls as she pulled away from the kiss to kick off her shoes, encouraging Misty to do the same. The girl lost her boots and grabbed Cordelia’s wrists, leading her to the mattress. It dipped at their weight and Cordelia became aware how naturally lit the one room was as Misty hovered over her, the daylight framing her face in a way that made it appear she had a halo around her. 

 

“Shit, I like the look of you layin’ on my bed,” Misty’s grin was extraordinary and Cordelia reached a hand up to touch the corners of her mouth. Kissing her fingers, Misty laid herself over Cordelia, stroking her hair. “Damn. Damn, damn! You’re beautiful.”

 

Feeling a flush to add to the heat that she was already experiencing, Cordelia shook her head against the quilt. “You look like an angel,” She breathed out long, hooking her thumb around one of Misty’s curls. “The sun is hitting you just right, I’m worried you’re going to be spirited away on me.”

 

“After all that the last six months has given us, I can guarantee, not even God could take me away from you at this point. You’re stuck with me, Miss Cordelia. ‘Sides, then you’d be stuck here in the swamp and you’d probably get eatin’ by the ‘gators. They don’t recognize the Supreme out here.”

 

Giggling, Cordelia propped herself up just enough to meet Misty’s lips without the taller woman having to bend her neck down. “I love you.”

 

“And I love you,” She sighed, sitting up to straddle her girlfriend so her thighs connected to her knees. Misty ran her hands from her hair, over her still-covered breasts, slowly, then down her abdomen and over to the edge of her surprisingly simple, cotton, black dress. Taking a clue from her shudder, she pushed the fabric up over the witch’s hips, then slid down to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss on her stomach. Cordelia grabbed for her hair again, sighing as her lips graced the skin below her breasts.   
  
Misty ran a palm up her smooth leg, turning a sharp edge to fall between Cordelia’s thighs. The woman’s breath hitched and Misty groaned into another kiss to her lover’s stomach before she mumbled, “You’re awful wet already, ‘Delia. Have I got you that bothered already?”

 

Her foreplay and smooth talk were ridiculously accessible to the older witch, who was in constant amazement at what Misty could do to her — despite having never been in any healthy relationship previously. “I’d like to remind you,” Cordelia’s breath hitched as Misty nipped at her hip bone, “That you almost had us driven off the road several times on the way over — ah,” She sucked in air again as the mouth attacked her sensitive skin, “When you kept moving your hand from my knee to my lap and — shit, Misty!”

 

The curly haired woman sat up after licking a trail to the waistband of Cordelia’s underwear and snapping it with her teeth. She bit her lip and leaned down to rub the Supreme’s nose with her own before rolling her hips once, twice against her lover’s, moaning at the contact. “It feels like you’re already wet, too,” The one beneath her teased as Misty’s straddle had moved higher and her panties were over skin.

 

“Soaked,” She breathed, then reached for Cordelia’s hand, taking it to prove her point. The Supreme’s eyes shut when Misty gasped sharply at the contact — one touch almost sending her over the edge in her extremely heightened state. “Mm,” She brought Cordelia’s fingers back up to clutch over her heart. “Not yet,” She smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

Returning to her girlfriend’s mouth, the witch started with three precious pecks, then increased the length of her kisses as she worked at the zipper on Cordelia’s side. The dress loosened up and Misty pulled off just for a moment, motioning for the Supreme to sit up so she could remove the crumpled material, tossing it to the wooden floorboards of her shack. Running a hand over a lace-covered breast, Misty practically growled at the rough texture. Circling over a nipple with her thumb, the witch sucked at Cordelia’s bottom lip, making her chest heave and fingers tangle into wild curls.   
  
Cordelia tried unsuccessfully to gain control, Misty grinning as when she slipped her tongue back into the older woman’s mouth, fighting for kiss after kiss.   
  
Thinking she was giving up, Cordelia tried to push Misty to her side when she let her mouth off, but found her arm pinned playfully above her head as the other witch sucked at the skin just above the edge of her bra, then used her nose to push the fabric away and take a perk nipple into her mouth. 

 

Cordelia’s head was rolling to the side and she gave a whiny groan of pleasure as she hooked a leg around Misty’s waist, lifting her hip, seeking friction. “Patient,” Her girlfriend warned, pausing for just a moment before letting her forearm go and using her hand to unhook the Supreme’s bra in the back, pulling the holder off and tossing it down as well, never leaving her breast unattended as she did so.

 

Feeling bold, she bit down and Cordelia let out a startled, but pleased cry as she craned her neck up so she could see what Misty was doing. The sight of her puffy lips over her chest made the heat swell between her legs and Cordelia wanted the fingers that were teasing the underside of her other breast to tear off her panties and fuck her hard.

 

“Misty, please,” She begged as Misty switched to the other breast, letting her fingers get wet with her own saliva as she refused to give up on pleasuring the opposite side. The Supreme tried to sneak her own hand down when her urge wasn’t immediately filled, but found it swatted away as Misty sat up abruptly, appearing absolutely devilish.   
  
“You were the one makin’ me wait earlier,” She responded cheekily, lifting her hips in a near mocking motion as she slipped her teeth over her bottom lip once, “Now I’ve got to return the favor. Trust me, it’s gonna be worth it.”

 

She tickled her nails between Cordelia’s breasts and over her abdomen, to her damp underwear, then down a leg, following the trail back up and returning to the other leg, where she lifted herself off of her girlfriend’s waist, then scooted back so she was kneeling, sitting on her heels. She reached up to tear off her short, tan tank top and toss it over her head, her breasts popping out. Cordelia met her in the same sitting pose, curling her arms around Misty’s lower back and tilting her head to take her lips as their bare chests collided, warmth spiking between them as she gasped into her lover’s mouth. Misty’s fingers teased from her long reach at the back of Cordelia’s thigh, dancing over ultra-sensitive flesh. The Supreme had the thought of overheating tucked somewhere way back in her brain, but ignored it as she tried to push Misty onto her back.   
  
“Uh-uh,” The witch chuckled into her mouth, her forehead gliding over hers. “It’s still my turn.”   
  
Cordelia ignored her as she brought her fingers to trail down Misty’s front and into the band of her skirt and underwear, fingers slipping through slick curls. The witch gasped as the Supreme slipped one finger easily inside her, lost in the dampness as she sucked in a breath against Misty’s mouth. “Hey,” The younger one tried to breathe out as Cordelia had managed to finally take control. “That’s...oh, oh—” She could hardly get the words out, “Cheatin’, _fuck_ , ‘Delia.”

 

 Cordelia added a second finger before pumping in and out of her, letting the pad of her thumb sweep back and forth over the bundle of nerves that always sent Misty off.   
  
“Mm” Misty bit her lip again as she struggled to stay sitting upright as her legs were already beginning to tremble — she had been wrong about only needing one touch to bring her to the edge, but she was already so close, “‘Delia, baby, don’t stop, please — _oh_ ,” She held the older woman’s hair while Cordelia continued to rock her hand back and forth, pushing in and out of her heat and rubbing her faster with each passing moment.   
  
Tossing her head back with a long groan, Misty fell backwards, narrowly avoiding the metal footboard as Cordelia tumbled with her, never letting her touch slip away.

 

“‘Delia, ‘Delia,” She breathed and twisted her body, one hand continuing it’s grip on her hair while the other wound around the metal of her bed, keeping her sturdy as she cried out at the final touch that was too much, practically purring as Cordelia’s fingers slowed down, but stayed in place while she spasmed around them. Her chest heaved, she’d come too soon, but knew that there was a hell of a lot more than that built up inside her. Taking a moment to gain her bearings as she continued to orgasm around her girlfriend, Misty slowly opened her eyes, watching Cordelia try to keep a wicked grin off her face. “Cheeky,” She grunted, sticking her tongue out before closing her eyes again and continuing to enjoy the wave.   
  
Cordelia finally pulled out of her, sliding the skirt and soaked underwear off Misty’s body, giving her space to breathe for a brief moment as the witch fought to catch her breath still. “You’re about to get it, ‘Delia,” She sighed, pushing herself up with her elbows and letting her eyelids lower as she flipped herself over so she crawled to the edge of the bed, where Cordelia was sitting and removing the last of her clothes as well.

 

Misty put her mouth to the woman’s neck, sucking fiercely as Cordelia reached a hand back to rub circles over her sticky thigh. “Oh, no, lady, your time’s up,” Misty insisted, pulling her down with a giggle and a backwards hug. Cordelia helped her out by moving back up towards the headboard and Misty touched her stomach, noting just how flushed her girlfriend’s entire body was — suspecting she was just as ready to fall apart as she had been moments earlier.

 

Kissing a leg from ankle on up, Misty stopped at the crease in Cordelia’s thigh, looking up to see the woman already leaning back and panting in anticipation at what was going to come next. 

 

The witch started with one long, slow lick to her lover’s center, causing Cordelia to breathe out the woman’s name. Knowing she was exactly where she was wanted, Misty put her hands on either side of Cordelia’s thighs, keeping them spread open as she pressed her tongue flat on the spot, then curled it up and into a kiss on the same place that had made her see stars of her own.   
  
Cordelia was whining in need, always much quieter than the younger witch when they enjoyed one another’s intimacy. Misty began to alternate between sucking and licking, occasionally gazing up to watch the Supreme’s shifting expressions of falling deeper into pleasure — the look more extraordinary at each glance. Focusing, she moaned into the witch’s body, humming with her tongue flat so that the vibrations ran through the witch and making Cordelia yank at her hair in a very encouraging motion.   
  
Adding her fingers as she took one away from a thigh and the other woman automatically placed it over her shoulder, Misty drew a circle around Cordelia’s entrance as her tongue continued to kiss at her before plunging in. Checking her progress in facial gestures once more, Misty saw Cordelia clutching at her own breasts, moaning loudly — possibly noisier than she’d ever demonstrated she would be during sex.

 

Her hips were bucking as Misty slipped in and out of her while continuing to use her mouth, kissing, sucking, kissing, sucking, then altering between sliding her fingers and tongue into her lover’s core. 

 

Cordelia was calling out her name as Misty increased the speed and remained consistent with sucking at her nerves and gliding her fingers in and out, groaning herself at the notion of what Cordelia was feeling, knowing the absolute bliss the other woman was experiencing. 

 

She was so close, Misty knew, and when she managed to cross the line she gasped loudly, choking Misty’s name and continuing to moan as Misty’s mouth slowed down, but didn’t withdraw from between Cordelia’s legs, enjoying the feeling of her lover’s orgasm, feeling absolute pleasure herself that she’d been the cause of the best sensation that Cordelia could have.

 

Eventually feeling too much, the Supreme tugged twice on Misty’s hair, pleading nonverbally for her to come up. Misty kissed her way to her girlfriend’s mouth. Cordelia continued to rock subtly against her beautiful body, nestled impossibly close as their limbs intertwined and they held one another, sharing a long, sensual kiss that was filled with expression that was more than grateful and adoring.   
  
There was no one else that ever had or could make either of them feel what they just had as they tried to regulate their breathing while still shaking from the love that was uniquely theirs.   
  
Cordelia tucked her head under Misty’s chin and the taller woman kissed the top of her sleek hair. “Love you, ‘Delia,” She mumbled and the sentiment was returned in full by the Supreme, who’s lips found the dip in Misty’s neck.   
  
“Love you too, Misty Day.”  
  
X  
  
Misty tossed on a long, cotton dress and nothing else as she moved to her garden — nature took care of most of it, she simply pruned it when she and Queenie came to visit the swamp once a month.Shifting through vegetables, she plucked the ripest ones off their vines or shoots, collecting them in a basket and returning inside, where Cordelia was dozing on top of the quilt, covered in the thinest sheet she could find in the trunk of blankets at the edge of the bed. Letting the veggies soak in a tub of filtered water, she sparked a fire with her eyes on the top of her wood stove, setting a kettle on top to boil water for tea.

 

Ruffling through mason jars, she found the dried leaves and spices she wanted for when it was ready, trying to keep quiet as she bustled about.   
  
By the time the water was whistling, Misty had cut up an abundance of the vegetables and was ready to take her early evening meal out to the dock. Feeling the sunshine fill her soul, she sat on the edge, swinging her legs and humming between sips of her tea.   
  
A squeak followed by a creak hit her ears and Misty turned to spot Cordelia, wearing one of her patchwork dresses, looking adorably out of character as she settled herself down next to her girlfriend, a sleepy smile on her face with a cup of tea in her hands.

 

“Hey, beautiful,” Misty greeted her, smoothing greasy hair back and grinning. “Veggies?”

 

The woman took a pepper and smiled as she bit into it. “You are welcome to grow a garden behind the greenhouse if you want.”

 

She shrugged. “You try the tea yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Cordelia responded as she blew across it.   
  
“If you like it, I can bring back the jars. I got ‘bout a half dozen. I used’a sell that, too. Huge profits on it.”

 

The Supreme took a long sip, then another, and a third. “And it took you six months to share this with me because...?”

 

Giggling, Misty took a bite of a carrot and looked out over the water, lighting up at the sight of an old friend. “Bella Donna!” She cried, her legs kicking out over the water excitedly. Cordelia pulled hers up and crossed them, trying to settle her rapidly beating heart as a nine-foot alligator moved their way. “Hey, baby doll,” Misty crooned as she put her tea down and shifted so she was on her stomach, her arms dangling down. The alligator gave a snort as Misty reached to pet it’s snout, “How’s it goin’ pretty girl? ‘Member ‘bout two months ago, I was tellin’ you ‘bout my ‘Delia?” She gestured, “This is her. Ain’t she radiant?”

 

“...Yeah, I know. It’s gonna be a hot summer. There’s not as much moss out here as usual. Must’a been from that weird winter. Wanna come up ‘n visit, hm? Come on,” She clapped and the gator shifted across the water until it was at a shallow spot, then moved rapidly towards the couple along the dock. Cordelia swallowed hard, knowing Misty wasn’t going to let the creature hurt her, but also never having experienced a cuddly alligator either.  
  
Bella Donna snorted as she came to rest next to Misty, who curled an arm around her, kissing her snout. “Hey sweet pea,” She greeted fondly, smiling up at Cordelia, who tried to observe with a neutral expression. “What’s that? You think she’s pretty? Well I ain’t gonna argue with that...Yeah, she is a little nervous, it’s okay. She ain’t ever seen a snuggly ‘gator, I suppose.” Running her hand over the rough texture of the alligator, Misty reached her other hand over for Cordelia’s, resting it against the middle of Bella’s back. “There. She won’t hurt you, trust me.”   
  
The alligator gave a puppy-like sigh, resting it’s large mouth in Misty’s lap. “She’s just missed havin’ me around is all. I miss it too, Bella Donna, trust me. But...I’m really happy with‘Delia. You always wanted me to be happy, right?”

 

Another snort and Misty brought her face down to kiss between it’s eyes again. Hesitantly, Cordelia stroked down the creature’s back, smiling as it caught her gaze, almost giving an approving nod.   
  
“‘Delia’s helped me get through so much these last six months. I don’t know how I can ever repay her.” 

 

Cordelia lifted the hand on the scales to cover one of Misty’s. The swamp witch gasped when the alligator made another silent confession. “Why didn’t you say so! Bella Donna! Congratulations! Can we see ‘em?”

 

Misty stood as the creature started to move. She was giddy as she exclaimed, “Bella’s just become a mama! I wanna go see the babies, come on!”

 

Cordelia struggled to walk barefoot along the foliage, but managed to keep up as the three of them arrived at a little den not too far off. Five cracked eggs lay against a nest of twigs, while four of the babies squirmed around playfully.   
  
“I’m only countin’ four babies, what happened?”

 

The creature gave a terribly sad roar and nuzzled her snout against the eggs, revealing a too-still fifth baby. “Oh, sweetie, no, it ain’t your fault. Shhh, lemmie help.” She made herself comfortable in the nest, letting the living babies crawl all over her while she cradled the dead one in her palms, closing her eyes and trying to give it life. “Come on, baby...Come on...”

 

Cordelia knelt beside her. Misty’s face was twisted into near tears as she focused her energy and breath into the baby gator, snapping up and falling backwards as it sprang to life in her hands. Cordelia caught her, realizing she was alone with six alligators and no interpreter. 

 

Thankfully, she didn’t need one. Bella Donna triumphantly growled as the baby crawled on her snout and appeared playful as she brought the baby a few feet down into the water for it’s first swim. Cordelia held Misty to her chest, kissing her cheek as she watched with a smile. “Your soul is outstandingly beautiful,” She whispered, stroking the woman’s upper arm as she observed the natural wonder of mother and child before her. Biting her lip, she imagined, for a moment, a curly-haired blonde toddler on Misty’s shoulders as the two of them splashed around in the nature that they’d share so tenderly.

 

Clearing her mind of the thoughts, the Supreme closed her eyes and ran her hand over Misty’s forehead, earning a groan from the witch as she woke. “Did it work, is the baby okay?”

 

“See for yourself,” She grinned, pointing out at the swimming alligators.   
  
They watched for a few more moments before Misty announced that she felt the mother deserved her time alone with her babies. Brushing off the dirt that’d gathered all over her, she started leading Cordelia back to the shack, stopping every ten seconds as the kept woman struggled to walk over the landscape without shoes on. “Aww, this is just sad. C’mere,” Misty giggled, waving her hands over.   
  
Cordelia raised a brow and Misty squatted backwards in front of her. “What are you doing?”   
  
“Hop on,” Misty said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ll carry you back.”

 

The Supreme laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You won’t. Come on.” She rolled her eyes, but Cordelia gave a jump — having a rare flashback to Fiona doing the same thing for her once when she’d kept her out far too late for a five year old.Hooking her arms around Misty’s neck, the younger witch shifted her elbows, hooking them around the backs of Cordelia’s knees. “See, I got you.” 

 

Cordelia was flushed as Misty hiked them around foliage and over large branches. Thee dock came in sight and the Supreme climbed down, pressing a thankful kiss to Misty’s cheek. “It’s almost time,” The witch mentioned. “The potion will be soon, if you still want to take it.”

 

“I do,” Misty confirmed, biting her bottom lip as Cordelia led them inside and opened up her travel bag, popping out a small glass jar, which had a thick navy liquid swirling inside it for almost two weeks. Part of the reason the Supreme had suggested their swamp vacation was so that Misty would be relaxed enough to take the memory-reducing potion.

 

“Needs just a little bit longer,” Cordelia said as she observed the pattern of the swirls when she twirled the bottle around. “But that’s okay. You need to be completely relaxed and clear-headed before we start. Anything I can help you do to get there?”

 

Misty shrugged, finding a place at the edge of her bed. “I don’t know. I mean, I could try meditatin’.”

 

“Hmm...” The witch paced, considering ways she could ensure Misty was ready to have her memories altered. “How about a massage? I know that always turns me into mush.”

 

Grinning and nodding, the younger of the two women agreed. “Your hands rubbin’ me down all over my body? When would I ever say no to that?”  
  
“You know,” Cordelia moved a leg with a smile, half-straddling Misty. “Six months ago, I wouldn’t have pegged you as being absolutely insatiable.”

 

Misty grinned but softened her expression to make the moment serious. “I suppose I wasn’t, six months ago.” She ran her knuckles down Cordelia’s cheek and sighed happily. “You’ve opened my eyes and showed me just how amazing loving somebody can be, ‘specially with the physical.” She kissed her bottom lip and hugged her middle, resting her head on Cordelia’s chest.

 

The Supreme knotted her fingers in Misty’s hair, starting the slow relaxation she needed to build within the other woman. Trailing her nails over her scalp, Misty practically purred as she burrowed her cheek deeper into the woman’s flesh that was slightly exposed in the dress she had on.   
  
“What do you know about chakras?” Cordelia mumbled quietly as she continued the trail of her fingers along Misty’s head.  
  
“Mm, nothin’ much. Read ‘bout ‘em once, but...” 

 

The Supreme nodded and carried on with her movements, adding a whispered and light tone as she explained away. “The top of your head has your crown chakra. When it’s open, it gives you clarity to the universe. All prejudice is stripped away and you are aware of your connection to the world. It’s one of the hardest chakra’s to open, but I think yours is wide.”   
  
Misty smiled against Cordelia’s chest as she kept scraping along the crown she spoke of, then down towards her neck and back up.   
  
Her fingers stopped with one hand as it moved to cup Misty’s head, leaning her back so she was laying on the bed. Her eyes were open as she stared up at her girlfriend with nothing but adoration. Cordelia touched her forehead, “The third-eye chakra,” She started, “Is right here.” She demonstrated with her lips and Misty’s eyes closed as she relaxed her palms, opening them against the quilt. “People who have accessed their third eye have excellent insight into the problems of others around them.” She felt fingers caress the skin above her brow and Misty simply wanted to melt. 

 

They trailed down lower, sliding over the skin of her throat. “The throat chakra allows you to be a great communicator. When it’s open, you’re inspired, and often show it through art.”   
  
Hands moved down still, and Misty winked an eye open as she felt a cool palm over her chest, stroking back and forth, just above her breast. “The heart chakra allows you to love and show compassion to living things. I think this one must be one of your strongest.” 

 

A shiver ran through Misty as Cordelia stroked along her belly-button. “The naval chakra shows confidence and dignity. You believe in yourself, and therefore, others believe in you too. Confidence rolls off you and everyone around you can tell that you’re honest.” Cordelia’s mouth replaced her hands there and Misty sucked in a sharp breath as the other woman’s hand settled just above her pubic bone. “The sacral chakra deals with emotion and sexuality. When you are able to freely able to express your feelings, and have accepted yourself as a sexual person, this chakra is accessible.” Cordelia kissed over each of Misty’s closed eyelids, resting her forehead against the other witch’s. “I think both of ours have just recently opened.”

 

Misty was about to bring her hands up to cup Cordelia’s face when she felt her thin dress sliding up her hips and chest, then was tossed over her head on the mattress. Cordelia rolled her over and she shifted up, her arms coming to rest beneath her head, her hair spilling all over.   
  
“Finally, the root chakra is here,” She pressed a hand to the base of Misty’s bare spine, making her fidget as she ground her fingers into a tender knot that the younger woman hadn’t even known was there. “This chakra keeps you well-balanced and comfortable and adaptable in many situations. It keeps you grounded to reality, even if you’ve allowed yourself to open your other chakras, and experience spirituality on more than just this plane.”

 

Cordelia’s hands both came to the tender place on her back, stretching the skin to the sides and then grinding deep into the tissue below. Misty let out a satisfied groan, breathing through her mouth as any trace amounts of tension were slowly released from her body. Knuckles came up to kneed between her shoulder blades, then trailed up to pepper down the back of her neck and spine, then up once more. Warm from pleasure, the witch snuggled deeper into the blankets, moaning as Cordelia’s fingers traced the skin lower on her back.   
  
Though she was already in a realm beyond serene, Misty let Cordelia continue working on her back for almost ten additional minutes, ready to fall asleep at any moment, but not wanting to miss a second of the touch. The Supreme’s hands moved down the witch’s arm and started working at her hand, forcing the tiny muscles in her fingers to relax in a way she didn’t know was possible.   
  
Not sure how the older woman could continue any further without her hands aching, Misty rolled onto her back, smiling as brightly as she could in her halfway-dopey state. “I think ‘m ready,” she mumbled. Cordelia met her with a sweet kiss to her lips before kneeling off the bed and retrieving the vial with the swirling liquid. “I’m nervous, but I’m ready.”

 

“Don’t say that,” The Supreme bit her lip, clutching the potion with a stiff hand. “If you’re nervous, I’ll be nervous. I don’t want you to forget, Misty. I just want to take away the pain.”  
  
“No, no, I...okay, yeah, I’m a little scared. I mean, you’ve never done it before, and you were the one sayin’ how dangerous memory potions were.”  
  
“But...” Cordelia shrugged, trying to keep her naval chakra open to radiate confidence. “We’ve practiced. I, Misty, if you don’t want to do it, let’s not—”

 

“I want to do it,” She sat up, using her elbows to keep her head raised. “I trust you, completely, ‘Delia. You’re my tribe. And I know you’d never do anything to hurt me. I’m just nervous, I think...because I haven’t known life without these twisted feelings since I was seven. And I’m excited, but...curious about what it’s gonna be like. You’re the Supreme, ‘Delia. If anyone can help me take away the feelin’ of those bastards, it’s you. I love you. And I trust you.”

 

Feeling her shoulders sag in relief, Cordelia returned to the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Misty’s forehead. “Then we’ll carry on as we practiced.”

 

Misty sat up, pulling her dress back on and they both crossed their legs into a lotus position, knees touching as they sat in silent meditation for nearly fifteen minutes, completely clearing their thoughts of anything short of their goal.  
  
The Supreme spoke first, needing to know, “Misty Day, what is it you wish to forget?”   
  
With a shaky breath, she kept her eyes closed, responding. “I want to forget the dark days of my childhood. I want to forget the actions of abuse and assault I suffered at the hands of John, Paul and Stan. I want to forget the moments spent at their mercy. I want to know that it happened, but I want to forget the feeling.”

 

Cordelia tucked her knees under her and Misty shifted so she was on her back, setting her head in her girlfriend’s lap. Taking Misty’s hands, the Supreme clutched them over the glass, beginning the incantation — her intention never stronger. “Sed eum capere non sum oblitus dolor. Extemplo quod ita sit volitle. Sit autem sermo scientiæ rmain.”

 

Uncapping the potion, Cordelia guided it to Misty’s lips. The witch drank it all, resting a hand over her heart as Cordelia continued to speak the spell, “Scito autem eam oblitus.”

 

Misty gasped suddenly, sitting up with a startle. Cordelia’s eyes went wide.   
  
“What is your name?”

 

The witch shook her head and Cordelia only grew more concerned. “No, I’m fine, it just hit me harder than I thought—”

 

“What is your name?” She nearly yelled, taking Misty’s face in her hands.

 

Smiling, she quietly responded, “Misty Day.”   
  
“Do you know where you are?”

 

Misty took her hands from her cheeks, bringing them up to kiss. “My ho...My old home. At the shack. My home is with you, Cordelia Goode, at the academy where you are the Supreme.”

 

Relief washing over her, Cordelia fell backwards to the stack of pillows, taking Misty with her. The younger witch giggled as she snuggled deep into Cordelia’s body, kissing the skin along her shoulder bone. “I love you.”

 

“Do you...should we talk about...?”

 

Shrugging, Misty smiled. “I know what happened. But aside from knowing that it did happen? I couldn’t tell you much about it.”

 

Squeezing her body tighter, Cordelia was simply able to breathe as she knotted Misty’s hair and curled her legs around the back of Misty’s.   
  
“I feel like I should return a favor,” The witch mumbled, clearly starving off a yawn.

 

Cordelia kissed her crown. “Maybe later,” She shrugged, sighing against the pillows. “That took more out of me than I expected it would,” Fudging the truth, she rubbed her hand over Misty’s back, knowing her girlfriend would need to sleep so the potion could take it’s full effect. “Can I take a raincheck and hold you while we sleep?”

 

“Mhm,” Her lids were dropping. “Thank you, ‘Delia. I can’t say enough thanks,” She yawned, trying to finish her thought. Cordelia chuckled and shushed her. 

 

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”   
  
X  
  
Misty woke up to find darkness had taken over her shack, but illuminating the corner near her oversized armchair were a few hosts of lit candles. Cordelia was draped over the edge, squinting as she read a book without her glasses. Misty suspected she didn’t really need them, given that she was the Supreme, but years of magnified reading power had made the creased brow a habit.

 

Watching her turn pages and smile every so often, the younger witch could have watched her contently reading for the remainder of the night.   
  
However, she wasn’t sure she could keep her hands to herself. Misty rose, the bed squeaking as she did so, capturing the Supreme’s attention. The older woman grinned and stretched her arms, opening them wide for her girlfriend to happily crawl into.   
  
She kissed her cheek and turned the cover of the book. “Aww, you never read _The Secret Garden_?”   
  
“I did,” Cordelia ran her thumb over the spine of the book that she was already a third of the way through. “But not in the last...twenty years at least. I can see why you like it, though.”

 

“ _Love_ it,” Misty corrected and grinned, taking it in her hands, turning to a dog-eared page. The sight of the wrinkle in the book made Cordelia a little nauseated, but she smiled as Misty read a meaningful passage out loud. “ _Sometimes since I've been in the garden I've looked up through the trees at the sky and I have had a strange feeling of being happy as if something was pushing and drawing in my chest and making me breathe fast. Magic is always pushing and drawing and making things out of nothing. Everything is made out of magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden - in all the places._  
  
“That’s how this place made me feel when I lived here. Sure, I got lonely a little bit, but this was my secret garden. Now I didn’t have the same troubles as Mary, but...I could relate to her. She had this beautiful place where magic happened and she could shut out all the horrible things of the outside world. I think we all need that now and again.” 

  
Cordelia smiled and took the book back, setting it in a pile on the floor, lifting something else that made Misty’s eyes go wide and try to grab it earnestly away from the Supreme. “No, ‘Delia, you can’t look at that!”

 

“Too late,” She snickered, then kissed the pout that formed on Misty’s lips. Opening a sketch book, she flipped through the first few pages and to an incredibly accurate and detailed drawing of a baby alligator. “Misty, these are incredible drawings. Why didn’t you tell me you were an artist?”   
  
She grimaced at the sight of her old artwork. “‘Cause it ain’t incredible, it’s pathetic. That’s supposed to be baby Bella, but it sure as heck don’t look like her. She’s missing all the life in her eyes.”

 

Cordelia fought the urge to roll her eyes, “Don’t tell me that naval chakra of yours is closing, come on now. These are amazing,” She opened to the next page, a coiled snake with an intricate pattern.

 

“That’s James.”

 

Raising her brow, Cordelia clearly wondered where the non-Stevie name came from. “He was a very proper snake, that’s all. Just reminded me of a very well-put together young man.” She shrugged. “This doesn’t really show that. Honestly, these are from like my first year here. James shed his skin and I haven’t seen him in ages.”

 

She twisted over Cordelia and stood, moving to a small dresser, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out another sketch book. “These are more recent. I mean, they still aren’t great, but at least they’ve got some life to ‘em.”  
  
Flipping through a few, she showed Cordelia another picture of Bella Donna, one which was shaded with meticulous accuracy to the creature she’d seen earlier in the day. “Misty Day these are phenomenal. Aww,” She stopped at a page that had Misty’s first human sketch that wasn’t a Stevie Nicks drawing. “Kyle.”

 

“There’s lots of him,” Misty smiled, tilting her head as she examined her work. “His eyes are a little dead here, but that’s how he was the first few weeks. He liked watchin’ me draw, though. I think it calmed him. He liked me drawin’ pictures of him — I think it helped connect what he was seeing to his body. He was a wreck.”

 

The last image was a stunningly accurate image of the young man who’d grown into their trusted circle of few. “Wow,” Cordelia ran her hand over the paper. 

 

Misty flushed, closing the book, then staring at it hard before opening it and turning to a blank page. “Maybe I should draw you.”

 

Cordelia grinned. “I might let you do that.”

 

“Okay,” The witch tried to tone back the red tint to her cheeks. “You keep readin’. But please don’t be mad if I don’t show you, and don’t peak at it. If it’s not good I don’t want you to see.”

 

“Misty, it’s going to—”

 

“Hush,” She waved at her. “Just...let me do my thing, alright?”

 

“Okay,” Cordelia mouthed, shifting to relax against the backrest as she reached for the novel. 

 

An hour later, Misty sighed. “Alright. It isn’t perfect, but...I guess I can show you. I haven’t colored it yet, so don’t be too critical.”

 

The Supreme stood to lean against the wall with Misty, resting her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder as she peaked at the art book. “Mist, I’m going to have to hire you to do my portrait for the academy.”

 

The younger witch flushed and moved her finger along a line, creating a shadow. “I don’t know about that. I’ve never painted anything.”

 

“You’ll do a lovely job.” She kissed the girl’s shoulder and nuzzled the skin. “Want to go lay down with me?”

 

“With or without clothes on,” Misty questioned without missing a beat.

 

Cordelia chuckled. “That’s up to you.”  
  
Misty shot her a look. “Well, I know you’re going to ask me about the potion, and you’re waiting for me to get real comfy so it seems super natural.”

 

Sticking her lip out a little, Cordelia sighed. “You know me too well, Misty.”

  
“Suppose it’s a good thing,” She closed her sketch book and put it in the basket where her colored pencils were stored, standing and shifting so her back cracked. “I really don’t feel a whole lot different. I mean, not that I expected to. It doesn’t happen all the time. It’s just sudden flashes of discomfort that I’d get. It was more often lately because of the trial and everything that led up to it.”

 

“Well,” Cordelia rose alongside her. “I guess,” She started, putting her hands on Misty’s waist and tugging them down, “I guess we’ll know when I’ve got my hands all over you — if they’re the only hands you ever feel like have been all over you.” 

  
“I hope so,” Misty breathed in and out a little loudly. “I’d like for my whole life’s worth of intimacy to have only and will ever involve you, ‘Delia.”  
  
Cordelia shook her head, moving a hand up to cup Misty’s. “What happened to you as a child was not intimacy. Intimacy is trust, and love, and endless adoration for a person; all the feelings that are in my heart for you, and I know yours for me. This is real intimacy — and it’s far greater than I’ve ever known, too.” She pulled Misty’s body flush to hers, hugging her as tightly as she could. 

 

Misty slowly returned the embrace as she buried her face in Cordelia’s neck, letting the older woman pour out the truth that she’d known for months, but needed to hear. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. You have an innocent, beautifully pure soul. There is no one like you in this world, Misty, and I feel selfish for wanting to keep you to myself. But I’m going to, because for the first time in my entire life, I’m happy. And it’s you that’s brought me that happiness. Despite all the awful things that have happened to you, time and time again, you’re an absolute ray of sunshine that I needed to grow.”   
  
She felt wetness against her shoulder and Cordelia only squeezed harder. “So let go of that last bit of pain from the past that you’re holding on to. Push it away, because it’s just you and me now — facing a world that’s always going to try to hurt us. But we’re not going to let it. We are strong, talented, amazing women. And together, you and I can do anything through the love that keeps us connected. And we’re going to remind each other of that love through our intimacy, whenever we can and especially whenever we need to.”   
  
Misty pulled away so she could look into her lover’s face. Cordelia kissed her tear-stained cheeks and walked her backwards to the mattress, guiding her down and her dress up in one movement. 

 

“Come here,” The curly haired blonde muttered, pulling Cordelia on top of her and kissing her fervently.   
  
The Supreme pulled her up so she was half sitting, pulling the strap of her dress over her left shoulder and down her arm, followed by the right — using her teeth for that side. Misty’s hands were already at the base of Cordelia’s neck — damp from the humidity of the swamp.

 

Squeezing her left breast, Cordelia’s lips locked over Misty’s right, making her groan a happy tune while closing her eyes and shifting her hips against the mattress. She wanted friction already — but knowing the tease that her lover could be, she knew it could be a long wait of delicious foreplay before the touch was granted where she wanted it.   
  
Cordelia swirled her tongue around Misty’s softest skin before adding her teeth — sinking ever so slowly into sensitive flesh, causing the younger witch to whine again, ever vocal during their time together. “‘Delia, you can’t take this slow, baby, I’m not gonna make it.”

 

Giving a hum of a laugh into her girlfriend’s chest, the Supreme pulled her mouth away to press a wet kiss down her sternum, then over to the other breast, sucking and biting in the same pattern.

 

Already completely hot and far too bothered, Misty shifted, trying to remain subtle as she slid a hand down Cordelia’s back and down to her own lap, inching her dress up with as little motion as she could, sighing at her own wetness as she slipped a finger inside herself. She savored the relief as she made way to brush her favorite spot with her thumb when Cordelia caught her movement and pulled away with trouble written all over her face. Misty didn’t stop until the older witch lifted the bunched fabric until it was around her waist, then took her fingers into her mouth, closing her eyes before laying Misty back and muttering, “You’d think after a talk like that, you’d want it sweet and slow.”

 

Misty could hardly form words as she was panting in desire, staring too openly at the woman above her. “You...you just...get me so worked up — all your love, all your devotion, for me; you just get me right to the edge and I need release, ‘Delia, _please_?”   
  
Cordelia put a hand on either of Misty’s shoulders and slid them down her incredibly warm body, stopping at the waist to pull the cotton dress all the way off and toss it to the floor before taking her own off.   
  
Unable to keep her hands away, Misty reached up to cup Cordelia’s breasts, tickling over the pert nipples before skimming her fingertips down to her center, smirking. “I can tell that I’m not the only one who needs release, ‘ _Delia_.”   
  
The Supreme sighed in ernest as Misty rocked a hand against her, but also tried sneaking her other back towards herself. Rolling to her side, Cordelia forced the contact from the younger witch to stop for a moment, earning a pouted whine. She tugged Misty by her hip and drew her fingers back where they were, then took her own and slid one inside her girlfriend — who hadn’t been under exaggerating how ready she was. 

 

Misty sighed and rocked her hand at the same pace Cordelia moved her own, her eyes closed as her forehead came to rest against her lover’s, finding breathing difficult as the woman touched her in all the right spots. Trying to focus on doing the same for Cordelia, she crooned and groaned, overwhelmed with all that was happening in their moment of intimacy.   
  
The curly haired witch increased her pace, rubbing faster against the Supreme’s bundle of nerves while the woman did the same for her. A near meow fell from her lips as the pace kept increasing, moment by moment, until she cried and spasmed, her legs quaking as Cordelia’s hand slowed it’s pace and she tried to keep her own up while shaking in her climax.

 

Cordelia pulled away from Misty, knowing how hyper-sensitive the woman could be after she came, and moved her fingers to help the witch along, who’d all but turned limp. It didn’t take but a few strokes of her own accord before she was finding the same pleasure her girlfriend was, and despite knowing how fiery her nerves were, Cordelia wrapped up Misty in a total embrace. To her surprise, the witch returned it, kissing her collarbone and sighing over and over, hooking her leg over Cordelia’s hip as she rode out her high.   
  
Far too warm for clothes or blankets, the two soon found sleep once again, still twisted in one another’s arms. 

 

 

 


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter eight was just posted — read that first, as this is the epilogue. A sequel is on the way later this week. Thank you for following the story and reading!

  
  
  
Misty hummed to herself as she stood naked in the walk-in closet she’d been sharing with Cordelia for eight months. It was hopefully the last day that she had to wear one of the woman’s polyester blends out in public. In a significantly better mood than she was the last time she prepared for court, she touched a long-sleeved number that had intricate, black laced flowers along the elbow.   
  
“That one would be nice,” A voice came from the doorway — Cordelia, already well-put together in a long, flowing creme skirt. “Might be a little warm, though. It’s sweltering.”

 

Biting her lower lip, the witch opened her arms. “Maybe I should just wear this?”

 

Cordelia chuckled and stepped forward into the closet, pecking her girlfriend’s lips before twisting her head and examining a sleeveless top. “This one,” She took it off the hanger, unzipping the back and tugging it over Misty, closing it around her, kissing the back of her neck before turning to the front. A skin-color tank top was overlaid with black, pop-up flowers that were very Misty. “One of your skirts, maybe...I think...” Turning to Misty’s side, she ruffled through various colors and textures until she found a long, red number. Biting her lip, she nodded, “This one.”

 

“That ain’t too flashy is it? I’ve hardly ever worn it.” 

 

“Too sexy, maybe,” Cordelia purred, setting her mouth over her lover’s jawline, making the woman sigh. “But we do need to get moving, is there anything I can do to help you get ready?”

 

Misty shrugged as she pulled on the skirt, turning to ruffle through a basket of accessories, pulling out a black pleather belt and securing it around the waist. She twisted the ring around her finger that she hadn’t taken off since Cordelia gave it to her months ago. “I feel good about today. I’m worried that I’m going to jinx it by being too optimistic.”

 

“No,” Cordelia touched her upper arm. “Whatever the outcome, those men will never see the light of day again. Come on, let’s go get some breakfast on our way?”

 

Nodding, the other witch ran a hand through her hair, straight for hopefully the last time of the year. “Can we get bagels?”

 

“Whatever you want,” She nodded to the shelf that housed their shoes. “Black pumps?”

 

“I ain’t wearin’ heels if they aren’t boots,” Misty stuck her tongue out at the sight. “Someday, you’ll fool me into wearin’ pumps, but not today.”

 

Rolling her eyes playfully, Cordelia pulled out a pair of black flats, which Misty stepped into. She took the Supreme’s hand, swallowing hard. “I’m ready. Let’s get this done.”

 

August heat was suffocating as they arrived at a coffee shop across from the courthouse. Misty tried not to be over excited as she stared at the options full of carbs and fat that she had zero concern about as she ordered entirely more than she could eat. Cordelia simply smiled and thanked the clerk, who’d put the food in a to-go bag, assuming they were feeding an army.

 

Taking it to a bench in front of the courthouse, Cordelia started handing Misty her nutrition-free breakfast, watching with amusement as she ate as if she’d been starving for weeks.

 

It wasn’t until a familiar face showed itself that the woman slowed down.

 

“Shit,” Misty muttered through a mouthful of bread, nearly dropping her bagel and hyperventilating. “That’s Poppy.” An extraordinarily frail looking woman was clearly attempting to find her way up the courthouse steps. “Am I obligated to say something?”   
  
“Of course not,” Cordelia assured her. Misty’s hands trembled and she stood up, putting her breakfast down. “Do you want me to—”

 

“No,” Misty nodded, “I’ve gotta do this myself.” Her hands were at her thighs and she was awkwardly stiff as she drew closer to the woman, who was clearly confused. “Aunt Poppy?” She quietly questioned.

 

The woman’s old, grey eyes focused and realization dawned on her. “Misty, darling,” The woman breathed, raising a shaking hand to her mouth. “Oh, my sweet, sweet dear. You’re  _alive_. I-I heard, I heard...and...I had to see...they said, you’d be here, and...here you are! Oh, Misty!”  
  
Poppy clearly wanted to hug her niece but was resisting, unsure if she was welcome. The witch sighed, opening her arms. “C’mere, Poppy.”

 

The lady leaned forward, hugging the young woman with every ounce of strength she had. “They say, they say that you turned these guys in. That you, you survived, ‘cause you’re a witch? Is it true, Misty?”

 

Misty snickered and pulled out of the hug. “It’s true. And while I’m bein’ honest, you aught to know, I’m datin’ the leader of my witch Coven, and her name is Cordelia, she’s sittin’ right over there.”   
  
Poppy opened and closed her mouth, wondering, “Are you happy, dear?”

 

Eyes shining, the witch confirmed, “Happier than I’ve ever been.”  
  
Cordelia watched the interaction, in awe of Misty’s ability to forgive (though she’d never forget).   
  
Misty questioned her aunt, not wanting her to be put out. “You holed up in one of them women’s shelters?”  
  
“Oh, no, I found a nice boarding house, not too far down from here. They’re settling the compound’s accounts, and all the women are getting equal shares of the money. For now, we’ve been given temporary housing options. I like it well enough.”

 

“Good,” Misty crossed her arms and uncrossed them, scratching at the back of her head. “You eatin‘ alright?”

 

“Yes, yes. But, I want to know about you? How did you survive?”

 

Misty opened her mouth to explain, but then remembered she had the power not to give information she didn’t want to relay. “You know what, Poppy? I’m alive. That’s all that matters.”  
  
Cordelia checked the time from her spot, pressing her lips together before standing and approaching subtly.   
  
Misty turned to give her a smile, relieved that she could say good-bye to the woman who she somehow, couldn’t completely stay mad at. “Time to go in?”  
  
The Supreme took Misty’s hand and the younger woman continued, “Poppy, it was nice...well, I’m glad...okay. I saw you, and you saw me. And I don’t think we ever need to do either of those things again. You take care of yourself, alright?”   
  
The woman gave a shaky nod, just as her mother had when she’d given the same suggestion about not wanting to have any future interactions with the woman.

 

When were escorted into the courtroom, Cordelia had Misty choose where she felt most comfortable to sit. She choose a seat near the back, on the outside isle. Cordelia put a hand on Misty’s leg.   
  
More witnesses and members of the compound and community were ushered in and within moments, Misty found herself tensing as the door that the guilty entered opened. She closed her eyes, preparing to see the criminals' faces for the last time.   
  
Their faces were sunken, weary. The sight filled her with a strange satisfaction — the notion of them physically rotting away, with no chance of ever recovering, was what she needed.

 

“All rise,” The bailiff declared and she stood, gripping Cordelia’s hand fast and sudden. The Supreme have her a tiny smile and squeezed her palm gently.   
  
The judge appeared and met Misty’s gaze, a twinkle making the young woman feel relief. Introductions were made and the clerk to the court read off the usual preceding dialogue before the judge glanced over the assembled audience. 

 

“This case was tied up in a neat package. I intend to keep the sentencing as such. I will deliver the sentence once, then the accused will rise for the formal sentencing.  
  
“John Bradshaw and Stan Dobson. I will explain the nature of your sentencing. You two have committed some of the most disturbing cases of sexual child abuse on the grandest scale that this court has ever seen. In this room today, thirty-seven of eighty-nine victims who came forward have made themselves present. It is the depravity of your crimes that has led me to this decision — one that I have made only two times in my career. I will be sentencing both of you to death, by lethal injection, on a date to be determined by this court, that will not exceed more than a year from today’s date. Have you anything to say for yourselves before I formally sentence you?”  
  
John stood, sneering. “The Lord will welcome us into His Kingdom. We’ve done nothing but his works since we began spreading His Word.”

 

Stan agreed. “There are those present in this court who will find themselves damned to an eternity in hell. Especially those who practice arts in the name of the Devil, such as the lesbian witch bitch who—”

 

“Order!” The judge snapped. “You might as well stay standing...I, Judge DonaHue, officially...”

 

As the woman settled her just decisions for the men officially, Misty sat, dumb-founded that the man who raped her repeatedly as a child, had the audacity to call her out before he was sentenced to die. Still, the knowledge that their lives were about to come to an end, was all she needed. Standing without telling Cordelia where she was going, the witch silently fled the room, using her magic to prevent any questions from being fired her way by those waiting outside. Cordelia cursed mentally, following her out. 

 

“I don’t wanna talk,” The younger of the two stated, her hands up as Cordelia found her on the steps outside the courthouse. “Can we go home? I need some of that anxiety potion.”

 

“No, you don’t,” Cordelia whispered, stroking her cheek before taking her hand. “You’re  _fine_. All his words did was prove that you are a hundred times more powerful than him. You took them down, Misty. All the way to hell.”

 

The woman sneered. “I can’t wait for them to get there for real. ‘Delia, let’s go, please?”

 

“Promise me,” The Supreme kissed her angry mouth. “Promise me you won’t take the potion when you get there?”  
  
“Okay,” She shrugged. “I need to go. I need...I don’t know what I need.”

 

“How about,” Cordelia suggested, hooking her arms around Misty’s middle, “A trip to the record store, and then maybe we see where the afternoon takes us?”

 

Deciding she could swing that, the witch nodded, hugging back and taking Cordelia’s hand. Arriving further downtown, the two stepped into a record store, Misty feeling a rush ripple through her as she let the trail slowly leave her as she started flipping through vinyl, finding a few that she didn’t own on records. She spoke the history of several albums, talking about personal struggles of her favorite lead singer as they checked out and Cordelia suggested window shopping along the sidewalk. 

 

Misty’s heart rate was easily declining as they passed shops that Cordelia used to frequent with Myrtle, talking about positive old memories. They neared the end of a row of stores and Misty stopped in her tracks as a tiny, ruffled dress caught her eye in a window. Looking up at the boutique title, she eyed Cordelia, who had an unreadable look on her face. 

 

“Can we go in?” Squeezing her girlfriend’s hand, the woman shrugged. “We don’t have to.”  
  
“I-I’d really rather wait—”

 

“A year, I know,” Misty offered a genuine smile and kissed her cheek. “Sorry. Now that this is all over, I know I’m ready to move on with my life; it’s going to be hard being patient.”

 

The Supreme nodded and Misty tossed her hair over to one side of her shoulders, grinning. “Walk along the water?”

 

Pushing any thought of babies behind her, Cordelia nodded and they moved along until the boardwalk came into view. Misty grinned, all thoughts of anxiety and court cases finally forgotten as she clutched her record bag and flew down the steps of the boardwalk, tossing off her shoes and moving to the wet sand nearest the ocean.

 

Cordelia rolled her eyes and unbuckled her heels, carrying them as she followed behind her girlfriend, holding her skirt up at the bottom. Misty was standing with her eyes closed, letting the      sun warm her face. She looked peaceful, and relaxed.   
  
She turned, her lips pressed into a warm smile as she stared at Cordelia. “Thank you, ‘Delia. For everything. I would never have been able to do this without you.”

 

Cordelia tossed her designer shoes to the sand, reaching her hand over to take Misty’s, letting the breeze ruffle her blonde locks around her. She stood quietly, moving closer to Misty and pressing a long kiss to her temple. “It’s over, Misty. The past is behind you now. All we have is the future, together.”

 

Misty flushed, thinking about the boutique they passed and Cordelia’s hesitancy — but she was right. They had the future together; whenever, and whatever, that held for them. 


End file.
